


An Unkept Mind

by Hammocker, SocialDeception



Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: (No that isn't a euphemism for anal you perv), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Buck is one creepy mother, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Falling (Reluctantly) in Love, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Includes Keith's impressive knowledge on late Victorian Design, Jason is a man-child, Jason's Persistent Dumb Luck, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Instability, Oral Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, art therapy, music therapy, semi-public oral sex, tunnel of love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/Hammocker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDeception/pseuds/SocialDeception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Jason wanted to do was get a job and appease his mother. Who knew how much one dumb job could change a guy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You need to start working, Jason.”

It was at breakfast when his mom dropped the bomb on him. Grant was away with the military for another six months and Riley had his college classes for the day. It was just the two of them, and he knew he should have been worried the moment he found her awake at eight in the morning and making eggs for them both. Margareth was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a morning person; a trait which ran in the family.

He was still sleepy, halfway blinded by the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains in their kitchen. Despite the plate of food in front of him and his mother’s smiling face across the table, he felt cornered and a little betrayed.

“What?” Jason said. “I bring in my share, come on.”

“It’s good that you’re passionate about your- pictures, Jason. But a proper workplace environment is important for building a resume.” 

“I've got plenty on my resume,” he fibbed. She was right about one thing, he did need to put something more together if he wanted a steady job. “I’ve had lots of photo sales this past year, for a few newspapers even.”

He tried to keep from sounding like a whining child, but from his mother’s mild expression, she was none too impressed.

“Even so, I think it would be in your best interest to have a desk job for a bit. Nothing too much, of course.”

She pushed the newspaper sitting in the middle of the table at him. She had already circled ads for him, the wanted page covered in thick, red pen strokes.

“Give it a look at least, please? For your dear old mom?”

“You’re not old, mom,” Jason told her, rolling his eyes and giving her a smile. He was on autopilot, after years and years of the same tactic. “I’ll figure something out, promise.”

“Thank you, Jason,” she said, returning the smile before lathering butter on her toast.

Jason let out a puff of air. What could he really do? He’d never done an honest day's work in his life. None of his friends had, except maybe Grant, but Jason wasn’t about to join the army just so his mother would stop bugging him and that would be Grant’s first and only suggestion.

With a lopsided grin Margareth nudged the newspaper closer to Jason, patting his hand when he reached for it.

“Don’t look so glum, Jay-bear, you might just like it.”

A flash of humiliation surged through Jason, despite there being no one to hear the name.

“If I like it more than that nickname, then I’ll be okay.” 

Sitting back in her seat, his mom gave a nod of encouragement to him.

“You’ll do better than okay, if I know my Jason.” 

And with that she dropped the subject, swapping to a largely one-sided conversation about cousin Rachel’s hammer toe and the state of her garden.

*****

“It’s bullshit, man!” Jason whined, tearing furiously at a paper napkin and ignoring the look the other two exchanged.

He, Riley, and Ollie were sat on a couch in the lounge of Tomy’s Pizza, the only place in town where the seats were greasier than the pizza.

“That sucks, Jase,” Riley said softly. “But, y’know, she does kinda have a point.”

“I don’t see you getting a desk job!”

“I’m in college and taking piloting lessons, what’s your excuse?” Riley countered, briefly releasing his hold on Ollie to cross his arms over his chest.

“I bring in money, you know I do.”

“Psh. Drop in a bucket with how much you eat.”

Jason gathered up a handful of torn paper and tossed the pieces at his brother. Despite the harsh half-truth, Riley was smiling and Jason couldn’t say he really felt offended.

“Man, I wish my parents would tell me to get a job,” Ollie interjected, visibly tightening his grip on Riley.

“I know you do, babe,” Riley said, reaching over to pat Ollie’s shoulder gently. “Jason, you’re smart and you’re connected, you’ll find something. Maybe you’ll even like it.”

“You sound like mom,” Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. He sank back in his seat with a sigh, absently trailing his fingernail along the red and white checkered tablecloth in front of him.

“Hey, hey, speaking of connections,” Ollie stuttered, sitting up to look at Jason better. “Keith hasn’t stopped talking about this- this thing. What’d he call it, Ry?”

“He’s working at a mental hospital type place in his spare time,” Riley explained. “Keeps talking about how cool the architecture is. I don’t get it, but maybe he can get you in.”

“Huh," Jason said, not entirely sure what to make of that information. "Well, maybe he could. Guess I should have a talk with him.”

“Hell, Jason,” Ollie said with a grin, not quite aware of what had just been said. “No matter what you do, at least you’ll know you’ll do it better than me.”

“Yeah, I guess I have to give that myself.” Jason barked out a laugh as Riley gave them both a stern look.

“You two stop insulting my boyfriend or I’ll make both your lives hell.”

“Aw, Riley, you’re too sweet,” Ollie said, leaning down to kiss his cheek. His attention was almost immediately diverted, however, as a server approached with one of Tomy’s specialities: Two extra large cheese-crusted pizzas with enough processed meat to clog the hearts of five men. They weighed more than a basket of newborns, and Jason swore he could see grease staining the decorative wicker serving trays, but he knew from past experience that they’d finish every cheesy crumb.

“Alright, pizza!” Ollie exclaimed, sitting up properly and prompting an eye roll from Riley.

And with that, the topic was forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

Calvary Point State Mental Institution was a looming brick building, from old Victorian times if the architecture was any indication. Jason would have called it ugly, had it not been for fond memories of Liza and late nights watching old horror movies on her narrow university bed. He briefly wondered if she'd be willing to do that again before Keith came out through the double doors, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, man."

The plain white shirt he was wearing looked about two sizes too small, the top buttons undone to show off his less-than-impressive chest.

"Hey."

Jason didn't know what else to say. He knew that if he opened his mouth, he'd just make a snide comment about Keith's shirt. That would be counterproductive, considering that Keith was the one possibly securing this job for him.

"Welcome to Calvary Point!” Keith announced, lifting an arm in the air. 

Jason resisted the cringe tugging at his face. Could Keith have been any more nerdy?

“Ready for the grand tour?" he asked, an unbearable glimmer in his eye.

"I guess I am," Jason said with a shrug, trying to sound enthused. He stared up at the building. It was old alright, the roof had old fashioned slates that looked about ready to fall down at any minute, while the deep red bricks had paled in the sun. Keith followed his gaze in turn.

"Calvary Point was built in 1886. Among its finer characteristics are the arched bay windows."

He pointed eagerly to the windows. Jason didn’t see anything particularly fine about them.

"Before the Institution was remodeled and modernized after the earthquake in 1979 those very windows had stained glass commissioned from John LaFarge himself." 

Keith glanced over at Jason. He must not have seen Jason’s underwhelmed frown through the sun’s glare, as he continued with ample enthusiasm.

"Yes! _The_ LaFarge! The earthquake destroyed just about all of them, so they were moved to a local museum later on. The ones you see are replicas. Good replicas, I’ll have you know."

"Are you for real right now?"

"You wanted the tour, didn't you?" Keith asked, blinking quizzically at him.

"Yeah, but-”

"Then we continue!"

He put a hand on Jason’s shoulder, practically pushing him along the building’s perimeter.

"We'll get to the colored bricks and the iron railings in a minute, but I wanted to talk about the doors! They were made to impress. You can clearly see Oriental design influences here in the..."

As Keith rambled on and on about the bricks and the doorknobs, Jason slowly tuned out everything he was saying. If this was going to be a regular thing, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to work there.

After being leashed through what Jason could only describe as a strange sort of hellish history lesson on architecture and seamless modern additions or the lack thereof, he was finally led into the hospital itself.

Unlike the exterior, the interior was very sleek and modern. White tiles, white walls, entirely unmarred by time. The whole place had a sterile, untouched scent to it. It must have gone through some recent renovations seeing as it completely lacked the decor Jason imagined all buildings built in the 1970's would have, the disco balls and brown wallpaper and gaudy checkerboard patterns. The end result was rather strange, like the crumbling bricks outside was just a prop used to cover up the new addition.

In the middle of the room was a large front desk, giving more of a hotel vibe rather than that of a mental institution. Keith nodded to a woman sitting behind it. The only indication that she had acknowledged him was a slight pause in the rapid tapping on her keyboard, before a door at the side of the front desk buzzed. This time Jason did get the feeling they were in an institution or even a prison. The door led into a large, glassed off area with a guard sitting on one side.

Keith flashed a card he pulled up from his shirt and they were let into the facility. Jason had to keep himself from grinning. Maybe the V-neck of Keith's shirt served a purpose after all.

"Now, if you accept the job, you'll have to sign a bunch of papers." Keith started, opening the door for the both of them. Jason liked the sound of that. Maybe this job hunt wouldn't be as hard as he feared. That confidence was quickly shattered as Keith continued. 

"Or, y'know, if Management actually want to hire you."

"Right." Jason mumbled sullenly, following Keith into a maze of hallways and doors.

"You won’t be allowed near the inmates or any of the rooms they occupy until you sign said papers, mainly papers on confidentiality."

"Confidentiality. Got it."

"Oh, not just confidentiality, Jason. Rules as well. Rules and ethics. Safety procedures."

"Confidentiality, rules, ethics and safety." Jason echoed. "I got it."

"It might seem excessive, but you're gonna be dealing with really sick people, Jason, let me tell you. It takes a lot."

Jason resisted the urge to comment on the use of his name and the way Keith's voice had suddenly gone down a pitch, like he was talking to an especially slow child.

“I can handle it, _Keith_ ,” he said, holding his head up. “What have I ever tried to do that I couldn’t?”

“Well, there was that one time with those two guys in Germany.”

“That was one time. My point stands. I’ll be just fine.”

“If you say so, J,” Keith said, shrugging.

Much of the rest of the tour consisted of where exactly everything was in the building. They never went too near any of the patient containment areas, but Jason got a basic idea of the layout and the different buildings. There were only five floors and three main areas, it couldn’t be that hard to find his way around. Not that he’d need to anyway. He was just there for a desk job, pushing papers and such. He doubted he’d even need to go near any of the nutbars. If anything, he was worried about Keith dragging him away from his post to go on and on about Victorian architecture or whatever. Easy enough to prevent. This job would be no problem, he was sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Editing Mistakes Volume 1:  
> "White tiles, white **walls** , entirely unmarred by time" was accidentally written as "White tiles, white **whales** , entirely unmarred by time."
> 
> Why did no one tell us we wrote this?! Why did no one mention we had Moby Dick in the story for a good week?! How do you miss a white whale?! Hammy is compulsively editing at five in the morning right now and this is upsetting her greatly.


	3. Chapter 3

It was Jason’s first day and, to his surprise, the whole job had been a walk in the park so far. He mostly just pressed a button to buzz people in as they came with tedious, but basic filing work in between. The filing was done within an hour, leaving Jason sitting there with nothing to do but mess around on his phone between buzzes. No one was there to catch him slacking off and it wasn’t like any work was lost for it, so he figured why not?

He was sat back in his office chair, day-dreaming about traveling. He was interrupted halfway between the thought of a quiet beach somewhere and the bustling streets of Beirut when he heard the door creak open. Jason straightened up only to find himself being approached by maybe the most stunning woman he’d ever seen. She wore a simple outfit and sandals, but she walked across the tiled floor like she was on a perpetual runway. Tattoos wound across her skin and struck Jason as ancient in their patterns, a stunning contrast to her delicate features.

“Can I- Can I help you?” he asked as she crossed the room.

She looked at him with hooded eyes, halfway between total apathy and casual interest.

“I am here to see my brother. Vaas Montenegro.”

“Let’s see,” Jason said, tearing his eyes away from her to scan the daily visitor schedule stuck in his clipboard. Surely enough, Montenegro, V was scheduled for a visit from Talugmai, C that very day.

“You can head on in, Miss- Taloogmay?” he tried, cocking his head at her.

His pronunciation got a giggle from her, though, he wasn’t sure if she was amused or simply condescending to him.

“Please, my name is Citra,” she corrected him, doing a coquette toss of her braided hair before strutting farther into the building.

Jason watched her as he went, trying not to gape. She wasn’t like any woman or any person he’d ever seen before.

“Citra,” Jason echoed a moment after she’d gone. Whoa. He needed to make sure he got shifts when she was coming to visit.

*****

“I’m telling you, she was outta this world.”

Jason let himself fall back against the sand, burrowing his hands into it. It was still warm from the evening sun. He didn’t care that it was going to get into his hair and crevices, nothing material mattered just then.

“Out of this world,” he emphasized dreamily.

“Yeah, Jason. That’s great. Real great,” Liza mumbled from her lawn chair, crinkling her nose.

Ollie was slumped over on his blue, dolphin dotted towel nearby, giggling at what was being said while trying to grill a marshmallow in the dying embers.

“Isn’t there some kinda code for ex-boyfriends?” Daisy chimed in, happily accepting another drink from Riley. “One that decrees they’re not allowed to talk about other women?”

“I wish!” Liza laughed.

The sun was setting in front of them, streaks of yellow and purple painting the sky as far as the eye could see. It was pretty, but it didn’t have anything on Citra in Jason’s mind.

“But she’s special!” Jason protested. “Neck tattoos would put me off with anyone else, but with her… _Man_.”

“Maybe she’s in some kind of gang,” Liza mumbled hopefully.

“Speaking of tattooed gangbangers,” Daisy said, abruptly changing the subject and rubbing Liza’s arm with a small laugh. “When are you two leaving for Mexico?”

Riley cast a quick glance at Jason before answering.

“Well, we were thinking, like, August? If I get certified, that is. No use celebrating if I don’t.”

“ _When_ you get certified, Ry.” Ollie leaned over and kissed his shoulder, earning a quick sideways glance and a smile from Riley.

“Ugh, you’re all so sweet, I'm gonna hurl,” Liza groaned, tossing a marshmallow that hit Ollie square in the chest, though he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Is this when I start gushing over Grant?” Daisy stuck out her tongue at Liza, who just nudged her in return.

“Your boyfriend is in the army. You’re allowed to gush.”

“Oh, great,” Jason mumbled, burrowing deeper into the sand with a frown. “So everyone’s allowed to talk about their love lives but me. Awesome.”

“When you talk to her instead of just staring at her from across the room, then we’ll call it part of your love life,” Liza quipped.

Before Jason had the chance to object, Riley added, “And “Hello” and “goodbye” don’t count.”

“You guys watch,” Jason declared, sitting up to glare around at them all. “I’m gonna talk to her. The next time she comes in, I’m gonna chat her brains out.”

“Lucky lady.” Liza was actually laughing this time, scraping marshmallow off the sole of her shoe.

*****

Three days later, Citra came in once more. As he’d planned, Jason was sitting at the visitor entry desk, ready to greet her.

“Hello, again,” he said, pressing the open lock switch right away. “Here for Montenegro, I presume. ”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” she said, scrutinizing his face. He suddenly had a sinking suspicion that she didn’t remember him at all. “What do they call you?”

“I- I’m Jason,” he said, struggling to meet her eyes. “You can go right in.”’

“Hm.” She looked at him for an extended moment before nodding. “Thank you, Jason.”

Well, it was a step up from hello and goodbye, though he suspected the others wouldn’t agree. But hell if Jason was going to give up over slow progress.

*****

A week passed and Jason saw Citra briefly twice more in that time. The third time, he decided he had to step up his game and get more personal.

“Hey, Citra,” Jason greeted her as she entered. “How’s your brother doing?”

“Oh, he is-” She paused and considered her words. “Well, he is not as he used to be.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, frowning. “What’s wrong with him?”

“His mood fluctuates. He gets very violent. He took drugs for a long while before I brought him here.”

“Oh. That’s- that’s pretty bad, I’m sorry.”

“I keep coming to see him, but he continues to talk less and less to me.” She let out a sigh. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

“Man, that’s hard,” Jason said, staring down towards the floor.

“It is,” Citra said, taking in a breath like she might break down crying at any moment. “It’s been very hard.”

Jason didn’t quite know what to say to that, but he offered an awkward pat of her hand.

“You’ve been very sweet to me, Jason.” She gave a delicate little sniff. “I should go. See how his mood is. Perhaps he will not be so hateful today.”

Despite her tone of voice, she turned and strutted along like she always did, her hips swaying carelessly as she left the vestibule. Jason sat there thinking for a long while, toying with his ID card. Maybe it was worth getting more involved with his work if he could help this woman.

*****

“Is he talking?” Jason asked the next time Citra came by.

She frowned deeply at the question, barely looking at Jason.

“He is not. He begins depressed and becomes angry the longer I stay. I fear there may be no hope for him.”

“Damn,” Jason breathed. “I can’t even imagine-”

“You are a lot like him, Jason,” Citra cut in. “Persistent. Stubborn like he is. He may yet talk to you.”

“Me? I don’t even know the guy.”

“But I do. And I know you.” She frowned, her expression taking on a desperate edge. Before Jason had a chance to say anything she grabbed on to his hand. “Please? You work here, don’t you? You have access to him. It would mean the world to me for you to try.”

“I really-”

Jason didn’t really want to get near any of the crazies in the place. That’s not why he was here. The closest he’d gotten was wheeling them out once they were released and that was how he liked it. If he accepted this, he was setting a precedent for himself. Maybe it would be worth it.

“Alright,” he said, accepting her hand into his. “I’ll schedule some time with him, promise.”

“Thank you, Jason,” Citra said, retracting her hand a little too quickly and giving him a saccharine smile. “I know you will not disappoint me.”

Without another word, she sauntered along into the next room, leaving Jason to smile to himself. He’d done the right thing and he’d gotten a beautiful woman’s good will. Definitely a worthwhile endeavor. Not only had they spoken, it had been deep and meaningful. They were practically halfway to first base already. Things were looking up.


	4. Chapter 4

Luckily for Jason, Keith had already mentioned in passing that they were short on staff to stimulate the patients, whatever that meant. After speaking with Citra, Jason had started taking great care in referring to them as patients, and not inmates, nutbars and crazies, but it took a little adjusting.

When he had accepted the job, he’d signed more papers and documents than he had through seventeen years of schooling, mainly through a few secretaries. When Keith had spoken about the management, Jason had halfway expected the whole ordeal to be like something out of a Kafka novel, but it had been largely uneventful. This time, considering the larger risk of legal action on his part, he was to meet with the Human Resources manager, an oddly scruffy looking guy who wore sunglasses even when he was indoors.

His outfit was striking, to say the least, like someone had fashioned a suit out of hospital scrubs. He had what looked like an ordinary blue t-shirt under a white suit that had seen better days. With the sunglasses, he looked more like a pimp or a dealer than a hospital worker. In fact there wasn’t a whole lot in his office that suggested they were in a hospital at all. On the wall behind him was the American flag, neatly ironed and framed, on a corner desk sat an old radio that looked like it came right out of an old detective movie, and a retro-y tape player lay to the side on his work desk.

Jason sat across from him, wondering if he kept the glasses on in bed or in the shower. At that moment the manager was flicking through a stack of folders on his desk, fishing out Jason’s with a grunt. The glasses were unnerving, if a little ridiculous. Jason hated not knowing if the man was watching him or not.

“Name’s Willis Huntley.” He finally said, putting Jason’s folder back down again. “Mr. Ramsay tells me you wanna work with the ding-a-lings.”

“I- Uh- Well, yes. I do.”

“I’m gonna level with you…” He paused, glancing down at the folder on his desk. “Jason Brody. You wanna help sick people, very admirable, but these aren’t like the cute little kids with burnt faces at your local children’s hospital.” He paused, leaning back with his hands propped behind his head. Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that he was messing with him. Maybe this was another test.

“I’m aware. I’ve already signed the papers, and been taught the appropriate response to any physical confrontation.”

“I think I read once-” Willis started, his pose still relaxed. “- that mental health workers are three times more likely to be attacked than police officers.” He shot forward, shoving their faces too close for comfort. Jason could see his own face reflected back in the shades and couldn't resist flinching back. “They like to say it’s far more likely for the mentally ill to be the victim of violent crime than the perpetrator, but make no mistake, Jason, these people can hurt you if they want.”

Jason opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as fast. Willis’ face was unreadable.

“All formalities aside, you’re being upgraded from a glorified doorman to an orderly. Or patient care assistant. Whatever they call them these days.”

“I like a challenge,” Jason retorted, to which Willis actually gave the tiniest quirk of his lips.

It wasn’t a lie, even if the reasons behind it weren’t as admirable as he would’ve liked. Skydiving, snowboarding, handling mentally ill people; it was all the same in the end, right? A challenge.

“Then that’s settled.” Willis fished out what looked like another standard contract, followed by more confidentiality forms. “Sign these and get going.”

*****

Though he didn’t want to admit it, he halfway expected things to go as smoothly as they had with Willis. He imagined going into the day room, finding Vaas sitting peacefully by the window and they’d have a little chat. Vaas would agree to speak to his sister, and Citra would, in turn, fall into Jason’s arms. A perfect plan, really.

But when he entered the large, open day room, he felt his hopes drop a little.

There _were_ people by the large windows, but that was where the similarities to his daydreams ended. The two elderly women looked like sisters, one holding skinny hands up in the air so the other could untangle yarn in a bright, yellow color.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, not trying to hide his disappointment as he took in the room he was in. It lacked the institutionalized feel the rest of the building possessed, and had it not been for the safety screens covering the windows and the distinct smell of bleach, it could have passed as a generic meeting hall or a drab coffee house.

A nurse sat across from the two ladies, far enough away as to not disturb their conversation, but close enough for safety measures. She reminded Jason of a cat, her eyes glued to the television on one end of the room, while her attention was clearly focused upon the two women sitting across from her.

“Where are all the others?”

The nurse turned, looking at him with a deep crease between her eyes. She didn’t respond right away, her eyes flicking between his face and the ID badge on his chest.

“Well, Mr. Brody, if you had bothered to read the schedule for the day, then you might know that breakfast is served between 7:30 and 8:30 in the morning.” She paused, tapping her clipboard. “Our residents may eat in their rooms or in the cafeteria, but not in the day room.”

Jason was sure there was a better way to ask about Vaas, but the desperation he had heard in Citra’s voice was in turn making him a little desperate as well.

“Do you know where Vaas Montenegro is right now?”

Her icy eyes snapped up at him, and she stared at him for some time before answering.

“Mr. Montenegro is currently taking some time away from social interactions.”

“You mean solitary confinement?”

“I meant what I said,” she drawled. “Sometimes our residents need a safe environment free of any stimuli other residents might provide. That is where Mr. Montenegro is at the moment, and I suspect he’ll be there for a few days still.”

“Any chance I could talk to him?”

The nurse obviously didn’t like him, so Jason figured all bets were off. No need to beat around the bush.

“If you think you have anything to offer Mr. Montenegro, then I suggest you speak with his psychiatrist.” She smiled for the first time, like the thought was amusing to her.

Before Jason had the time to respond, an icy hand was around his wrist like a vice. What people said about mentally ill people having the strength of ten must have had some truth to it, because he’d never expect that iron grip coming from the person standing next to him.

He was a thin, birdlike man, a puff of white hair like a halo around his head.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” he whispered, smiling at Jason. “They’re bulimic. Can’t be trusted with their food. Have to have a guard so they won’t…”

“That’s quite enough, Earnhardt.”

Earnhardt shot Jason an apologetic look.

“I’m out of order.”

He shrugged, going quiet as he studied Jason’s face. His red-rimmed eyes seemed too large for his face, and he stared at Jason for an alarming amount of time without blinking.

“Care to join me?” he finally croaked.

“Join you?” Jason figured this old geezer was a good candidate to start the asylum experience with, but he still felt a little wary.

“I have a free hour before group therapy,” Earnhardt said, pulling Jason along with him before he had time to respond. “I’ll show you around.”

“I’m Jason.” He couldn’t keep his voice from faltering as the strange man guided him through the corridor.

“Dr. Alec Earnhardt.”

Jason stared at him in confusion, but Dr. Earnhardt didn’t seem to acknowledge it. He tried and failed to picture this man in any professional setting, considering the nervous energy rolling off of him in waves.

“Here’s the cafeteria.”

Jason barely had time to even glance into the place before Dr. Earnhardt pulled him along further.

“Heard you ask about Vaas. Disturbed young man. I don’t know why you want-” He trailed off as he trudged past a large room with easels and art supplies locked in large, mesh cabinets, and a music room where horrible, off-key melodies drifted into the hall when the doors were opened and closed.

“Musical therapy,” he mumbled, not finishing his previous train of thought, a trait that seemed to be a common one.

Jason let himself be pulled along, taking in the various rooms with interest. It was a much nicer all-around tour than the one he’d gotten from Keith, and Dr. Earnhardt kept feeding him various tidbits about the other residents. It wasn’t as scary as he had imagined, no crazed killers in strait jackets banging their heads against the wall, or scary children giggling and tearing limbs off their dolls. It seemed more like an upscale resort of some kind, like a nice little community of, admittedly, quirky residents.

“Here’s my room. Time for medication,” Dr. Earnhardt abruptly declared, inviting Jason in with a sweep of his hand. Just as Jason entered, a nurse came up behind them with a small paper cup in her hand.

“You can’t just leave before you have your medication, Alec. Don’t know how many times we have to tell you.”

Jason heard him apologize, but tuned out the rest of the conversation as he took in the room. It was surprisingly large and airy, divided by a half wall that separated the sleeping area from a small sitting room with a desk and a sink on the opposite wall. The furniture was simple, but Earnhardt had tried to make it his own with a few personal effects. Some books were scattered across the desk, surrounded by hastily scribbled notes. In a large, silver frame was a fading photograph of Earnhardt and a young, round-cheeked girl on his lap. Dr. Earnhardt’s eyes were less wild there, his expression mild with both arms wrapped tightly around her middle.

“Ah, yes. Vaas.” Dr. Earnhardt was suddenly behind him again, continuing the conversation he had started half an hour ago. 

“Terribly unpredictable. Manic-depressive by my estimation, probably some sort of personality disorder to boot.” His voice transformed a little as he spoke, the previous timid tone giving way to a stronger one.

“Manic depressive…?” Jason echoed.

“I think the term is bipolar these days, but I like manic-depressive myself. Very descriptive.” He paused for a second before continuing. “I enjoy that, you know, names that says it all. Dishes are often like that, like the Malaysian Char kway teow. Literally means “stir-fried rice strips." Isn’t that amazing?”

Jason couldn’t really say he agreed. Far as he was concerned, most food had descriptive names, but he let the doctor ramble on in hopes he would say more about Vaas.

Rightfully so, because it didn’t take long before he continued.

“Terrible business, restraints. Not supposed to do that more than absolutely necessary, thanks to negative psychological consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“Increased aggression and hostility for one. Depression, frustration…” Dr. Earnhardt trailed off again, stroking one of the thick books on his desk.

“How often is he…?” 

“Physically restrained? Not that often. He’s on chemical restraints most of the time. Not much left of him.”

It sounded awful depressing, and Jason found himself without further questions. The doctor seemed to sense it, as he paused, peering at Jason with watery eyes.

“Best stay away from him, Mr. Brody.”

A chill went down Jason’s back just then. It was like one of those horror movies, where the crazed mental patient suddenly knows the protagonist's home address and social security number, giving chillingly accurate predictions about the future. At least that’s what went through his head before he glanced down at his chest and realized his name tag did say his full name. No mystery there, in other words.

“Group therapy,” Dr. Earnhardt mumbled, staring at his naked wrist like a watch would magically appear.

“Well, uh, thank you for the tour,” Jason said, though, Earnhardt was already turned to leave.

The old fellow wandered down the hall and Jason watched until he disappeared around the corner. He was certainly appreciative of what he’d been shown and told, but he wasn’t entirely sure what to believe. Earnhardt was one crazy talking about another, so God only knew how reliable he was. Jason guessed he’d just have to wait until he met Vaas to see for himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Jason wasn’t sure what he’d expected of Vaas. From what he’d gathered, Vaas was bipolar and prone to violent outbursts. He had expected a twitchy tweaker, like the ones he’d seen down on Skid Row, too skinny and dirty to make much of an impression on him.

What he hadn’t expected was the limp, broken creature that sat before him. Vaas was slumped on the desk by the glass, practically dead by the looks of it, his eyes shut.

Despite his posture, Vaas looked strong, wide frame, wide shoulders, though, he seemed thin beneath his generic coverall; that sickly gauntness that suggested he had lost weight rapidly. His mohawk was drooping in places, and his facial hair was scruffy like it hadn’t seen a razor in a long while. He seemed so tired. It tugged at Jason’s heartstrings, though, he wasn’t certain why. Maybe it was because he looked so much like Citra. 

Or maybe because what the nurse so graciously had referred to as a “safe environment” was in reality nothing more than glass cages supervised by nurses on one side. The only thing allowing them to speak was a metallic panel with several notches cut into it, set above a desk separated by the glass. It reminded Jason more of a prison than an acute care ward. 

“Uh, hi.”

Vaas gave an incomprehensible grumble and didn’t move an inch.

“Citra wanted me to talk to you.”

“Citra,” Vaas spat, his jaw making the only distinct movement Jason had seen from him so far. “Fuckin’ bitch.”

“What’s the matter with her?” Jason asked with a puff of laughter.

Vaas rose up from the desk, like a corpse rising up from its grave. His eyes were wide and he glared weakly at Jason. Jason had to stop himself from flinching at the sight of a huge, nasty scar running down the left side of his face.

“What’s the matter with her?” he echoed. “What the fuck isn’t the matter with her?! She’s playing you, man, she’ll fuck you like she fucked me.”

Two minutes in and Jason was already getting barked at. Things were going great.

“You’re sick, Vaas,” Jason said, keeping his voice level. “You need to be here. Citra cares about you, she wants you to get better.”

That got a fire in him going. Vaas pressed his face to the glass, teeth bared like an animal. His eyes were blue, Jason observed. Pale blue, a bit darker than the glassy teal of his sister’s eyes; wild and not fully in the moment.

“What the fuck would you know?!” Vaas screeched. “She doesn’t care about me, hermano, and she sure as shit doesn’t care about you. The only thing Citra cares about-”

He didn’t get any further, as two nurses entered the room from the other side.

“Remember what we talked about, Vaas?” one of them asked, nearing Vaas as one would a wounded animal. “You know we don’t like the four-point restraints any more than you do.”

The words did nothing to soothe Vaas, rather, they fueled his rage further. He spat angry words in what sounded like Spanish. Jason regretted not studying harder in his language classes.

“Wait!” Jason started, banging the palm of his hand on the glass. His protest went unnoticed. Vaas was still spitting like an angry feline, cursing them in more than one language, if Jason’s minimal knowledge held true.

“Come now, Vaas. Remember last time?”

They cornered Vaas quickly and efficiently and, before he had a chance to fight back, they had him in a vice grip and stuck a needle into the flesh of his arm. 

“This will be a lot easier if you work with us.”

“But, I-” Jason tried once more.

“Not your fault, new guy,” one of the nurses said, holding Vaas as he started stumbling a little. “Vaas here is a bit of a brawler, aren’t ya buddy?”

He patted Vaas’ back, and got a weak growl in return.

“Sorry this had to be cut short,” he continued as they led Vaas out. “You can always come back in a couple of days.”

“A couple of days,” Jason echoed, frowning.

He was suddenly very aware of how much time this whole process was going to take. And, shockingly, he didn’t mind too much. Yeah. He would come back in a couple days and Vaas and he would talk some more. Jason could do it.

*****

The next time he sat down in the “safe environment,” Vaas was resting his chin in a palm, eyes as dull as they had been when Jason had seen him before. He looked to Jason as he sat down, but didn’t speak.

“Hi again, Vaas,” he said, making a particular effort to sound pleasant.

“What do you want now?” Vaas asked, his voice lethargic.

“I made a promise to try and help you, so I’m going to.”

The only reply he got was a snort. Jason took that as permission to push on ahead.

“I’ve been wondering: last time I was here, you said something about Citra not caring about either of us.”

Vaas’ face scrunched up in what Jason could only describe as pure offense.

“She doesn’t,” he growled. “The only thing Citra cares about is Citra. Don’t let yourself think any different.”

“Well.” Jason hesitated, pondering what he could say to that. Of course, he had to fall back on his knowledge of cheesy after-school specials. “I care.”

Vaas scrunched up his face and gave Jason a tired glower.

“You don’t know me, don’t talk bullshit.”

“When I came in here and saw you the first time, I wouldn’t have felt what I felt if I didn’t.”

Vaas gave a breathy laugh, glancing sideways.

“Yeah? What’d you feel, white boy?”

Jason bit his lip. No matter what word he chose, Vaas wasn’t going to be happy.

“Sympathy.”

“Don’t need your fucking pity,” Vaas said quickly, like he had expected the reply. He avoided Jason’s eyes, pausing before adding, “I didn’t get your name last time.” 

He hadn’t said, that was right. Jason kicked himself internally.

“I’m Jason.”

“Do yourself a favor, Jason, and fuck off,” Vaas said, frowning up at him. “You don’t want to deal with me, you don’t want to deal with Citra.”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Vaas.”

“No, no, no, no, I’m not gonna tell you what you want,” Vaas said, clicking his tongue. “I’m just gonna say you’re stupid for wanting it. You’re stupid for wanting to mess around with Citra.”

“Not the first time someone’s called me stupid. Not the first time I’ve done something stupid. But I’m not dead yet.”

Vaas laughed, shaking his head.

“Worse things than being dead, Jason, worse, worse things.” Before Jason could ask a question, Vaas continued, “You been to the beach lately?”

“I- yes. Was just there yesterday. How’d you know?”

“Sherlock fucking Holmes, white boy, ” Vaas said, rolling his eyes. He tapped the metal grate. “I can smell the salt on you through here, the sand, the wind. Nothing else like it.”

“You been to the beach a lot?”

“Used to,” Vaas said, lowering his head to rest on his arms. “Don’t swim too good, but nothing like wading around hunting for mussels and shit.”

His eyes shut as a serene smile overtook his face.

“I could lay in the sand for hours,” Jason offered. “My friends hate it, but I really like how it feels.”

“Mm,” Vaas hummed. “That’s stupid, Jason. You’re stupid, but I’d go to the beach with you.”

The sudden tenderness of Vaas’ voice caught Jason off guard.

“I hide in the sand and you go hunt for mussels?” Jason said, his voice barely above a whisper

Vaas kept his eyes closed, and Jason swore he could see the corners of his lips twitch, like he was fighting a smile.

“I’d like that,” he said, not a drop of guile in his words.

And for a moment, Jason could picture the two of them, sprawled out on a beach with golden streaks of sunset across their faces, eating shellfish by a fire. Tired from a long day of lounging and clamming and doing what they wanted to do. A day of simple freedom. He blinked several times, a little shocked at his sudden vivid imagination.

Vaas was watching him then, peeking out over his muscular forearm. There was no anger in his eyes anymore, just tired resignation.

“Been nice talking to you, hermano,” he finally said, before he shut his eyes and refused to speak any longer.


	6. Chapter 6

The following day, Jason found a memo sitting on his desk. It was just a sticky note, marked with his name. He picked it up and read it over.

“Brody- See Sam Becker. Room 12, Blue Building, 12 PM,” it stated plainly.

The Blue Building was Vaas’ ward, the one he’d been working in on-and-off for a week or so now. Room 12 would be easy to find, surely. It was only 10 in the morning, so he had plenty of time to imagine exactly who this Sam person was. Probably just another nurse. Jason only hoped Sam might at least be less of an ass than most of the staff he’d met thus far.

 

*****

Room 12 was a locked room intended for medicine preparation. At least, it looked like it was supposed to be locked. He tried the handle and it opened without any need to knock or turn a key or anything. He poked his nose inside cautiously and nearly did a double at the sight inside. Sam Becker, in contrast with his modest nurse uniform, was a tall, imposing man with tattoos covering most of his forearms. Jason stepped in and shut the door behind him. He approached the nurse hesitantly, eyeing him as he shook various pills into paper cups.

“Er,” Jason started. “You’re Sam?”

The man turned, staring at Jason with a stern expression before his face split in a grin.

“Ah, Jason Brody?”

He peeled his latex gloves off and stepped over to shake Jason’s hand with enthusiasm.

“Here to make my life harder, ja?”

German. Of course. Jason could almost picture him tearing down the Berlin Wall; he sure had the style for it. The guy even had a spider tattoo on his cheek and his head was shaved, though, Jason wasn’t sure if it was a fashion statement or a measure to hide a receding hairline.

“I- Uh…” Jason scratched his head as he hesitated.

“Relax, Brody,” Sam laughed. “We’re just gonna monitor a painting session.”

With that he opened the door up and gestured for Jason to exit first.

“So what is the painting supposed to do, anyway?” Jason asked as Sam locked the door behind them.

Sam led the way down the hallways. They still all looked the same to Jason, and he’d covertly taken a picture of the emergency floor plans with his phone. Still, he felt more comfortable following Sam around than trying to glimpse at his phone.

“It’s a good way to show emotion. To express yourself, ja?”

Jason considered it for a moment. He guessed he could understand that.

“So what do we do?”

“Make sure they don’t stab each other with their brushes.”

Sam glanced over at Jason’s dumbfounded expression before bursting out in another fit of laughter.

“We’ll get along, Brody,” he said, giving Jason a slap on the back.

It wasn’t long before they reached the art room. It was a large, narrow space, the windows overlooking the gardens outside. Art supplies were already spread out on a middle table, and a handful of people were positioned in front of large easels. Sam immediately started circling the room, complimenting the patients on their progress. Jason could guess he had a good reputation. Despite his somewhat alarming appearance, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

“Very good, Vaas!”

Jason’s head snapped up at the mention of Vaas’ name. He hadn’t realized Vaas was, in fact, sitting near the back of the room. He must have been released from solitary just that day. Vaas snarled at Sam before mumbling something unintelligible. Sam just laughed and moved on to the next, while Jason found himself gravitating towards him.

Vaas sat hunched over his canvas, the stretched cotton covered in angry orange and black streaks.

“Hey,” Jason said, clearing his throat. “What are you painting?”

Vaas shot a quick look over his shoulder, scowling a little when he saw who it was.

“Nothing,” he murmured, evading Jason’s gaze.

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like nothing to me,” he said, leaning over to get a better look. “It looks kinda like a, uh, tiger?”

“Aren’t you fucking smart, blanquito?” Vaas said, shaking his head. “Why do you care?”

“Just curious,” Jason said, shrugging. “You like tigers?”

“Why the fuck you think I paint them, stupid?”

“Well,” Jason started. “My cousin Rachel buys a lot of dog prints, even though she ha-”

He shut his mouth when he realized he was starting to sound like his mother. Vaas didn’t answer, just glared at him before leaning back over the painting.

“Citra always said I was like a tiger,” he finally said, allowing the thought to hang in the air. “Big and fierce and striking. Independent. Unpredictable.”

“Big and fluffy?”

Jason intended it as a light joke to ease the tension, but Vaas hissed something under his breath, turning to do more wide sweeping motions with his palette knife over the canvas.

“You’re not-” Jason began before immediately regretting his word choice. “It’s not a bad tiger, you know.”

Vaas briefly tilted his head in Jason’s direction, but didn’t respond. The conversation was clearly over on his end, and Jason decided it best to move on to other paintings.

He recognized one of the bulimic sisters Dr. Earnhardt had pointed out to him, sitting quietly by one of the windows. Jason's smile fell when he peered over her shoulder, watching her paint with a brush that seemed far too large in her small hand. She painted a basket of fruit, bluebells woven between shiny apples. It was beautiful, but considering her story it just made him terribly sad. He moved on without a word.

The other paintings elected the same sort of feeling. He had halfway expected them to paint burning buildings, inner demons and whatnot, but most of them were quite serene. Well, apart from Vaas’ angry tiger. Jason tried to leave him alone, though it was getting harder and harder to ignore him, considering he'd started using his hands to paint, scratching into the canvas with blunt nails.

Jason circled back to Sam, who was busy flipping through a stack of sketch books.

“Is he always like that?”

“Hm?” Sam followed Jason’s gaze. “Oh, Vaas? He is quiet today, I think. Compared to how he usually is.”

“How is he usually?”

“He wouldn’t only growl at me for talking to him other days, let’s leave it at that,” Sam explained with a chuckle.

“Oh. So he’s better than usual?”

“Less prone to violence is usually “better,” ja,” Sam said with a nod. “He keeps this up, he won’t be going back to solitary.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You taken a shine to him?” Sam asked, though, it wasn’t really a question.

“You might say that, sure.”

“Hm,” Sam hummed, giving a knowing smile. “I’m pleased; we want enthusiasm in our handlers.”

“Yeah. Enthusiasm,” Jason agreed half-heartedly. He wasn’t sure if that was the right word for what he was feeling, but it would do for now.


	7. Chapter 7

On a Friday, Jason found himself between tasks when he was approached by a desperate, babbling Keith. It took a moment for him to comprehend any of what Keith was trying to tell him.

“You gotta help me, Jason,” Keith begged. “He’s always- looking at me. Like he wants to eat me. And I wouldn’t put it past him to do it either.”

Jason wasn’t sure just how many years he’d known Keith, but long enough to know he hadn’t ever seen him this spooked. Not even when he tried for a fraternity the first year of college, and he was sweating over initiation week.

“Who?” Jason asked, still not entirely sure who or what he was talking about. Keith needed to learn to slow down.

“Name’s “Bambi” if you can believe it. Bambi Hughes. Calls himself Buck.”

“Let me guess.” Jason contained a snicker. “That’s because it rhymes with-”

Keith cut him off with a groan.

“Y’know, I wouldn’t be shocked,” he said with dismay heavy in his voice. “Just please come with me.”

“Don’t you have like an alarm or something?”

Keith fished out what looked like a small keychain with a button on it.

“I do, but-” He hesitated, teeth clenched. “I don’t want to know what he might do in the time it would take them to come.”

“He dangerous?”

“I have no idea, man. He’s like a goddamn shark. You see his shadow once and then you’re always worried when he might bite. You just never know.”

“Fine, fine, fine. Not like I have anything better to do.” It wasn’t totally true. He had been hoping to track down Vaas, but he supposed it was more important to support his friend.

“Thank you, Jason!” Keith said, leaning forward to give him a quick hug.

“Yeah, yeah, sure thing, buddy,” Jason said, only returning the gesture with a quick pat on Keith’s back. He briefly retreated into his head, imagining that he was being embraced by Citra instead of his strange college friend. She certainly would have been a lot softer.

From there, Keith led him out of the main wing and through areas of the hospital Jason didn’t recognize, through security checks he’d never been through. It felt very much like he was being led through the bowels of the place, into where they kept the really nasty patients. There wasn’t any screaming, bashing or howling; just silence and their footsteps echoing through the long, empty hallways. It was worse than anything Jason might have imagined, really. It wasn’t like any horror movie he’d ever seen about crazed mental patients, no dripping basements or blood smeared walls, no, this was scarier. All sterile and professional, reminding Jason that this was indeed, a real life hospital, and not something from his younger brother’s video collection. Yet still he felt like something might jump out from the ceiling at any time, for how tight and claustrophobic the place was.

Buck’s room was nothing like any of the living quarters Jason had seen before. They had to go through two sets of heavily locked doors, like one of those sci-fi movies where the space people have to be sterilized before entering a different atmosphere. Jason was surprised there weren’t guard posted at every corner. He supposed they placed faith in their automated and wireless security measures. Still, he had to wonder how many incidents they dealt with on a regular basis.

As they finally entered Buck’s room and the door shut behind them, Jason found the ultimate destination rather underwhelming. It was basic living quarters, a standard bed, table, and chair with a few decorative trappings on the wall here and there. The only difference being the lack of a dividing wall between the living and sleeping space. Jason didn’t want to speculate why that was.

Buck himself was leaning against the far wall with a feral smirk, his hospital gown unbuttoned all the way. Jason wondered if he had known they were coming, as the shirt was carefully arranged to the sides, showing off a huge tattoo of a grinning stag on his chest and far more of his lower abdomen than Jason ever wanted to see. Keith hadn't been joking. Buck all but licked his lips as he stared at Keith.

“Hiya Keith,” he purred in a heavy Australian accent. “Who’s your friend?”

“He’s, uh- he’s-” Keith stumbled and stuttered for a few seconds before Jason broke in.

“Jason Brody. I’m new here.”

“Jason Brody.” Buck repeated, almost tasting the words, savoring them like wine. “I hope they’re treating you well.”

Despite his friendly tone and the smile that seemed permanently etched on the guy’s face, his eyes were cold, focused at Keith with calculating intensity. He gave Jason some serious creeps, though, Jason didn’t find him intimidating as Keith seemed to. He noticed Jason staring at him, and he turned and gave a little wink.

“See something you like?” He shifted, pushing his pelvis out as he adjusted. Jason had to bite his cheek not to burst out laughing, but all the color had drained from Keith’s face.

“We’re understaffed today, that’s why I’m here to give you your meds.” Keith shook the pills around in the small cup. 

“Understaffed, eh?” Buck stretched languidly, arching his back like a cat. “That’s why there’s two of you?”

“I’m here to learn,” Jason said firmly, and when Buck looked at him, Jason could see the challenge in his eyes.

“Now, behave,” Keith ordered, his voice surprisingly firm, though his hands were shaking.

He approached Buck with the paper cup containing his medication.

“Well, don’t I always behave, Keith darling?” Buck purred.

Despite his semi-threatening tone, he stayed leaned back as Keith inched closer, not moving a muscle. He reminded Jason of a crocodile posed in the water, waiting for a water buffalo to make the wrong move. Keith tried to stay as far away from the man as possible, stretching his arm out to hand Buck his medication. Buck didn’t acknowledge the gesture at all, instead tilting his head back, giving a salacious lick of his lips.

“Mr. Hughes…” Keith warned, but Buck just laughed quietly.

“I’m behaving,” he whispered, opening his mouth.

Keith made a small whine at the back of his throat, barely audible, but the corners of Buck’s mouth curled in a smirk.

“Just humor him, Keith,” Jason sighed. He was getting bored with Buck’s display. It was all bark and no bite. Or, at least, it would be if Buck didn’t decide to bite Keith’s hand off in a moment.

Keith made a little huff of indignation, taking a step closer so he could tip the paper cup over Buck’s open mouth, the four small pills falling onto his tongue. Buck didn’t bother with the water, swallowing thickly before sticking his tongue out to prove he wasn’t hiding the pills. Instead of moving his tongue up and down, he wiggled it, sticking the moist, red tip out between his teeth at Keith.

Keith didn’t speak, his face tightening in unease. He couldn’t meet Buck’s eyes for more than half a second at a time and seemed considerably smaller in his presence.

“Did I do good, Keith?”

“You did great, Bambi,” Jason cut in, and Buck’s head moved slowly in his direction, eyebrows knotted.

Keith seemed frozen in place, and Jason touched his arm gently, steering him out the door. He cast one last glance at Buck before he closed the door behind them, catching the grin on the other man’s face.

Keith was left quaking in the wake of the experience, barely willing to look at Jason or speak. 

“Hey, you said something about the place having a courtyard a while back,” Jason mentioned, hoping it would take Keith’s mind off Buck. “Wanna head through there?”

Keith’s face smoothed out and relaxed almost immediately.

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice,” he said, half-smiling with his lips pursed. “Come on then.”

He directed Jason out of the area and back to the main wing. From there, he showed Jason out through the set of double doors in the day room, leading out into a large porch area, with chairs and tables arranged along the wall. 

The hospital gardens were surprisingly well-kept. It had the same ornate iron fencing as the front, but they were surrounded by tall trees and bushes, covered further by a green veil of vines. In keeping with what Keith assured him was the "Victorian spirit", it had lush, green lawns surrounded by neat and symmetrical flowerbeds. It was all pretty idyllic, if Jason were to say anything about it. A few patients were seated in front of one, weeding while they chatted amongst themselves. Jason got the feeling he was back at a resort again.

"It's good therapy," Keith commented. He sounded a bit worn out, but much more like his old self again. Apparently long monologues about Victorian gardens was therapeutic to him.

"What? No jokes about how it keeps the obsessive occupied and the manic busy?"

Keith cast him an indignant look.

"I'd never say that. Those both mean the same thing."

"Whatever, smartass," Jason scoffed affectionately, giving Keith a light shove. 

They walked towards the employee entrance, and Keith scrambled through his jeans for the keys.

“Anyway, like I started telling you last week,” Keith opened a door for Jason, motioning for him to descend the staircase in front of them. “This used to be an old tuberculosis ward. That’s why there’s a chapel on the grounds, and even farmland. They had to be self-sustained a lot of the time.”

“And this?” Jason imagined Keith was showing him this for a reason, and he let his hand trail down the chipped stone. They seemed second-rate, cheap compared to the rest of the building’s interior and exterior.

Keith didn’t say anything, just smiled while nudging Jason in front of him, urging him to walk faster down the steep staircase. It lead into semi-darkness, just a row of emergency lights emitting a red glow along the floor, and Jason stood in silence before Keith flicked a switch. Bright fluorescent lights flickered to life above them, illuminating hallways stretching out in three different directions from where they were standing.

“Underground tunnels!” Keith exclaimed when Jason stared at him unimpressed. “Some lead to the hospital, others to the crematoriums!”

“Festive,” Jason commented with a roll of his eyes.

“It was a necessity.” Keith frowned like Jason had just insulted him personally. “In fact, you can pretty much thank tuberculosis that we live here at all.”

Keith clearly expected Jason to question it, or even argue, because he gave a disappointed pout when Jason followed him without a word.

“They said that Southern California had “healing powers”. The land of sunshine and all that. Literally thousands came here to recover.” Keith traced the stone wall wistfully. “Then, of course, with the advancements in medicine, places like these were shut down, some falling into disarray.”

Jesus, it almost looked like he was about to cry, and Jason quickly changed the subject.

“What are these tunnels used for, anyhow?” He could believe the part about places falling into disarray, the tunnels certainly showed their age. The uneven stone walls were painted white, but poorly so, like it had been done in a hurry, not at all like the rest of the place.

“It’s mostly just a shortcut between the Medical Administration and the Asylum now.” Keith shrugged. “Sometimes we let the residents in the open wards ride bikes down here.”

For some reason a mental image of Vaas popped into Jason’s head. It sounded like fun, riding bikes in the narrow tunnels, while hopefully not crashing into each other. It wouldn’t quite be like a day at the beach, but maybe Vaas would enjoy it anyway. Jason made a mental note to check Vaas’ privileges with Sam or one of the other nurses. Maybe he had behaved long enough to earn a leash with a little more slack to it.

When he looked to Keith, Keith was staring at him like he was expecting a response.

“What?” Jason asked, flushing a bit as he realized he’d been lost in his own head. 

Keith blinked, but repeated himself with more vigor, “I asked if you’re getting settled here.”

“Oh. Well, I am,” Jason answered at last, before immediately realizing that it wasn’t just a half-baked placeholder answer. “I actually really like it here.”

“Good!” Keith gave a glowing smile. “I told you you would!”

“Yeah,” Jason conceded, smiling a bit himself. “Yeah, I guess you did.”


	8. Chapter 8

Monitoring musical sessions wasn’t much different from the art sessions. About the same level of enthusiasm, similar room layout, and equally cheap equipment, albeit, a lot louder. A wiry fellow was thumping at a snare drum in constant repetitive motions, someone tapped at a triangle, and Jason could swear he heard a kazoo somewhere, but he couldn’t see anyone with a kazoo. There were more patients here than in the art session, Jason observed, though he couldn’t for the life of him understand why this would be more popular. He was sure the noise would slowly drive him to madness. The whole setup reminded him of the music room in his high school; fancy on the outside, less than stellar on the inside.

Because of the amount of patients, there was another nurse present besides Sam and Jason, a tall man with a neat goatee and large glasses.

“Let me introduce you.” Sam said, leading Jason over with a gentle touch of his elbow. Sam had that kind of air about him, gentle, yet insisting. Jason found it oddly comforting.

“Jason, meet Dennis. Dennis, meet Jason, our newest addition.”

Up close Jason noticed the large scar running down his forehead, not that different from Vaas’. If Dennis noticed his staring, he didn’t let it show, instead shaking Jason’s hand with a wink.

“Jason. It’s nice to meet you. How are you holding up?”

“Uh, well enough, I suppose.” Jason tried to subtly scan the room, but caught Dennis’ smile when he turned back to him. “Gonna take me a while to get used to this though.” He spread his arms in an effort to encompass the noise in the room.

“You’ll get it.” Dennis chuckled, and slung an arm around Jason’s shoulders, steering him across the room. The people working here seemed very hands-on, Jason thought, ignoring his slight apprehension at being pulled in so close by a new acquaintance. Dennis led him to one of the patients, introduced him and chatted idly while Jason slowly broke away from Dennis and let his gaze wander.

Jason made sure to look for Vaas and found that, once again, Vaas was toward the back of the room. His painting of an angry tiger was replaced by a shabby little keyboard. He seemed to be thrashing away at it with little purpose, harsh, electronic tones coming out of its speakers with each strike of his fingers.

“... society has taught you how to fail, not nature!” Jason heard Dennis say, patting the patient on his back. Jason wasn’t sure what they had talked about, but he nodded regardless.

“I’m gonna- uh-” Jason stammered, pointing to the opposite corner of where Vaas was. Dennis briefly followed his eyes to Vaas before squinting at Jason, as though he found it strange and even distasteful that Jason would want to see Vaas. He didn’t, however, make any comment to that effect.

“I’ll just...” Jason started before he could think of what he might say. Dennis wasn’t stopping him, though, and so, as subtly as he could, Jason made his way across the room, idly looking over other patients’ shoulders as he approached his true goal.

He didn’t say anything right away, but cast a quick glance in Dennis’ direction before peeking over Vaas’ shoulder.

“You like the keyboard?”

“It’s a synthesizer, dumbass,” Vaas corrected him without turning his head. Like he’d known Jason was there the entire time.

“Language, Vaas,” Sam chided as he passed by.

Vaas glared at Sam until he was at a safe distance, at which point he rolled his eyes.

“La-a-anguage, Vaas,” he mimicked before sticking his tongue out with a gag. “Sauerkraut fucker, debe morir…”

Jason watched Sam go. He couldn’t fathom what Vaas had against the nurse, what with how pleasant he was. But then, maybe that was exactly the problem.

When he turned back to Vaas, he was beating at the keyboard with greater vigor than before, seeming to have forgotten Jason’s presence. It was a strange thing, watching his anger come out and inflict itself on a musical instrument. As unpleasant as the sounds were, Jason understood exactly what Sam had meant by “expressing” just then.

They didn’t last too long. Vaas ceased banging at the keys and made his way over to a different device covered in switches and sliders. Some kind of mixer, if Jason had to guess, like what he’d seen DJs noodling at many times before. Music had never been his forte. Vaas put on a pair of headphones attached to the thing and, with much greater care, began to push and press and spin dials. Even as Jason leaned in to look at what he was doing, the most Vaas did was reach up and gently push Jason out of his way by the chest. Jason allowed himself to be pushed, a little surprised that Vaas was touching him so casually. Still, he seemed much more focused on getting to a tuner Jason had been leaning over. Never once did his eyes raise from the board while he was working. Jason found himself oddly captivated by it. Like watching a master craftsman work without any of the apparent masterfulness.

Jason didn’t know how much time head passed before Vaas whipped his head up and took his headphones off, grinning like a madman.

“Listen to this,” Vaas insisted before shoving the headphones over Jason’s head and grabbing his upper arm like he was afraid Jason might run away.

Jason likely would have torn the headphones off in any other circumstance. The sound was incredibly loud. Not booming or particularly bassy, just turned up really high. Somehow, though, Jason was more struck by the second instance of contact, more aggressive this time. The tuned, synthesized beats coming out of the headphone’s speakers only served to punctuate the thoughts and emotions running through his head. It didn’t even sound like the keyboard Vaas had beaten on, it sounded like pain, anger, sadness, a cocktail of raw, conflicting emotions.

He didn’t get to experience it for long. Vaas pulled the headphones off of him presumably as the music was meant to end.

“So-o?” Vaas asked, pushing his face a little too close to Jason’s.

“That’s- actually not that bad,” Jason said, though, whether he meant the music or Vaas’ hand on his bicep was up for debate.

“Some compliments you got there,” Vaas said, rolling his eyes, but still smiling. “Used to have a better one, ‘til…”

He returned to frowning and shook his head.

“Doesn’t fucking matter.”

“I think it does,” Jason said, giving him a tentative smile. “You did a lot of music stuff before?”

“Mixing, yeah,” Vaas said, his speech slow and lethargic. “Dancing in a club is one thing, okay, but once you get up there and work the booth, it’s a whole ‘nother thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. I know I’ve never tried it.” He gave a thoughtful pause. “Maybe I should try it”

Vaas snorted out a laugh, shaking his head.

“No, no, no, no, it’s not for you, definitely not for you, Jason.”

“And why the hell not?” Jason asked, crossing his arms.

Vaas reached up with two fingers to tap Jason’s forehead. “‘cause you don’t got much going on in-”

As they were talking, Dennis cut in, practically shoving himself between them. Vaas recoiled and glowered at Dennis, as though his presence was noxious in itself. That made two nurses Vaas had some beef with, though a fire burned in Vaas’ eyes that Jason hadn’t seen when he had glared at Sam.

“We’re wrapping up here,” he informed them. Dennis wrinkled his nose as he turned his gaze on Vaas, reciprocating the disgust. “Get going to group therapy, you.”

As quickly as he’d come, Dennis was gone, making sure everyone else knew where they were going. Jason turned back to Vaas, who was staring after Dennis. 

“Guess I’ll be seeing you around then.”

Vaas’ eyes slid back to gaze at him. For a moment it was as though he was seeing Jason for the first time, giving him more of a sizing up than the first time they had encountered each other behind a glass wall. Maybe he was comparing Jason to Dennis in his head or maybe he’d simply had a change of heart.

“Yeah,” he said with a mild nod. “Yeah, I guess I will be seeing you, blanquito.”

He left the headphones on the mixer and strode out of the room, glancing back at Jason for a split second as he went. It reminded him of Citra, of when she took a moment to look back at him as she left, but with none of her pomp or condescension. Just a quick look and a small smile before he was gone. Vaas lacked that pretense she held, but Jason’s heart was thumping like it always did when he saw Citra. What exactly he was supposed to make of that Jason would have to figure out.


	9. Chapter 9

Jason remained assigned to receptionist duties two days a week. It continued to be boring and largely uneventful. With such little traffic coming through, Jason was able to slump down on his desk and just stare forward without consequence. His eyes kept flickering shut and he kept flitting in and out of proper consciousness. Jason daydreamed, sure, but he usually directed his thoughts to specific places. It might have been more apt to just say he was dreaming. Maybe he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. That was alright. He saw sunset and water behind his eyes, saw himself lying in sand, a warm hand clutching his. Jason could feel himself grinning like an idiot, but he couldn’t bring himself to wipe it away. It was a rare thing for Jason to feel truly serene, but that was the only way to describe the scenes his mind was showing him. So nice and relaxing and…

“Ahem,” a distinctly feminine voice coughed in front of him.

Jason instantly straightened up, eyes wide, smile suppressed into something more professional. Citra stood in front of him, giving him an amused half-smile.

“Oh- oh hi, Citra. How are you?” he asked hastily, glancing down at his schedule. “I- I didn’t think you had an appointment today.”

“I am just fine, thank you,” she said, all but brushing the question off. “Has your time with Vaas seen any progress, Jason?”

“Oh. Right,” Jason said, gathering his thoughts as his mind returned to its waking state. “Well, uh, I dunno exactly. it’s been quite an experience getting to know him. I mean, I don’t think I’m even halfway to understanding him, but I like him and he likes me. I think.”

“You think, Jason?” Citra echoed, blinking with incredulity in her eyes.

“Yeah. I don’t exactly have a scale to weigh how much he likes me on, but…”

“I did not ask you to “like him,” I asked you to help me heal him.”

“You- did?” Jason didn’t remember her saying it in those words if she had said that at all.

“Yes, of course!” Citra insisted. “He is in need of someone like him to balance and control his inclinations. So he understands that he does not know what is best for him. That he needs my help.”

“Well, if I like him, I figure it’ll make him warm up to me faster so he warms up to you again. Win-win-win, all around.”

“He has not spoken to me still in the time you have been seeing him,” Citra started before cocking her brow at him. “He talks to you?”

“When he feels like it, sure,” Jason said, shrugging. He wasn’t smiling at all anymore. He suddenly felt very henpecked.

“Why have you not encouraged him to talk to me?”

“I’m working on it,” Jason assured her. “First time I brought you up, he freaked out. I figured I should give it time, you know, let him breathe and get used to me, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Citra said, though, a sour sneer had come over her face. It did her features no favors at all. “I suppose you have your methods.”

“Sure, if you wanna call it that. Honestly, I’m kinda playing it by ear.”

“Do keep me in mind when you speak with him, Jason,” she all but ordered him, giving a small smile and smoothing out her expression. “I am counting on you as much as he is.”

“I know, yeah, I’m not gonna-”

Before he could finish, Citra leaned over the desk, stroking his hand with practiced ease, movements slow and deliberate. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, some of her earlier impatience gone, though her lips were still tightly pursed.

“I’m not gonna let you down,” he finished with confidence. She didn’t say anything to that, just smiled at him and headed back out the door. 

His smile faded when the doors closed behind her. His words suddenly seemed hollow and he was left feeling very empty, like Citra had sucked all of the air out of him. She hadn’t been like that before, not at all. Was it something he said? Something he did? Was she just not in a good mood? That must have been it. She’d never made him feel that way before. She was always a bit lofty, but she’d never been outright mean or even particularly passive-aggressive or- fake. He hated to use that word for her, but it gnawed at the back of his mind. The way she’d flip-flopped between scolding him for not working hard enough, and then playfully touching and smiling at him, he didn’t know how else to describe it. The whole encounter put Jason off any further daydreaming, that was for sure. He guessed he’d just have to keep on going with Vaas and try to keep Citra’s needs in mind.

*****

That hollow feeling stayed with him the rest of the day, and he had to contain a sigh of relief when his shift ended. He hadn’t lied when he told Keith he enjoyed it here, but Citra’s interruption left him feeling like it was more of a chore. He hated to admit it, but he’d almost been looking forward to speak to Vaas again, and now he found himself wanting to do it just to pacify Citra the next time she came around.

After the nurse had suggested with sarcasm that he learn the schedule, he’d made a real effort to do just that. He had a cheat-sheet on his phone, but he was getting the hang of it. It wasn’t so hard, considering how every day was laid out exactly the same. Sam had told him how important predictability and consistency were for the patients, so keeping routines was important. The activities weren’t always the same, but the schedule was. Considering the meager amount of rooms Vaas had access to or seemed to have interest in, his location wouldn’t be too hard to narrow down.

He strolled through the hallway in the main building, glancing into the various rooms. The paint supplies and musical instruments were locked up again, the rooms empty. Moving along further he entered the Day Room, finding the usual groups of patients chatting, but still no Vaas. 

He didn’t want to ask a nurse for Vaas’ location, since he’d already done that a few too many times. They might get the wrong idea, even if the truth wasn’t much better. He wasn’t sure they’d take too kindly on him working on behalf of Vaas’ sister, if the confidentiality papers were any indication.

With a sigh he glanced down at his phone again, like it held the answer to where Vaas was. It was still within the two hours of free time between medication and group therapy, and dinner had just ended, so the cafeteria was closed. 

What did he know about Vaas? He knew Vaas liked music. The beach. Painting angrily with his fingers. The memory made Jason smile as he wandered down the corridors. He wondered if Vaas had a collection of angry tigers in his room.

Actually, Jason had never seen Vaas’ room. He’d been in solitary the first time they met, and ever since then, he’d been in one of the day rooms. It wouldn’t be too hard to figure out where his room was, considering all the patients were assigned a three digit code. V. Montenegro D25, meaning room 25 in the D wing.

He strolled along like he had before, inconspicuously checking the plaques on the door until he found the one he was looking for.

There was no answer when he knocked, and Jason glanced around him quickly before entering. He’d half-way expected Vaas to be sitting in his bed or standing by the window, but the room was empty.

The layout was like in Dr. Earnhardt’s room, though the desk and chair were moved into the sleeping area, leaving the sitting area bare, except for a pile of papers on the floor where it looked like Vaas might have written or drawn in his free time. Jason had imagined Vaas keeping some of his artwork in his room, but he hadn’t anticipated the art covering most of the surfaces, including the windows. Some of the cheap canvas featured the same angry streaky tigers from before, but his skin started crawling once he stepped up closer to some he hadn’t seen before. 

Most of the paintings covering the walls had nothing but a stylized image of an eye on it. In some the pupil was moved to the side, in others the paint had dripped, making it look like the eye was crying, or perhaps bleeding, but most just had the one big eye staring blindly into the room. The effect was chilling. He tore his gaze away, rubbing his arms unconsciously.

Apart from the paintings and crumpled up papers, there wasn’t a lot of personal effects in the room. Jason didn’t feel like looking through the desk drawers, so he opened the door, glancing down the hallway before exiting.

He decided to take the shortcut through the garden to the other building. Maybe Vaas was in the other day room or something. The garden was mostly empty, except a group of patients walking the grounds, chatting and laughing, while another tended to the garden beds again. It was a nice day, though most days in California were. They were a little spoiled, truth be told. Jason rarely paid attention to the weather.

Moving towards the further end, he caught a slight glimpse of something red in his peripheral vision. At first he thought it might be flowers, until it moved between the shrubs and trees near the tall iron fence. He roamed quietly off the path, checking his footing for each step, unnecessarily so since the lawn was free of twigs and leaves. Something still urged him to be quiet, so he sneaked around the bushes, stopping dead in his track when he realized he’d found Vaas without even meaning to.

Vaas wasn’t in his hospital shirt anymore, instead he was wearing a worn, red wife-beater. He sat hunched over something on the ground, partially hidden by a shrub, his posture strained.

Jason had gotten into the habit of just peering over people’s shoulders, so he silently did again, staring at a small mound of dirt. His gaze shifted, seeing Vaas’ hand clutching a small, sharp-looking palette knife, digging soft soil from a decent sized hole by his spread knees.

“Hey! Where’d you get that?”

It was a stupid question; Jason already knew where he’d gotten it. He’d personally witnessed Vaas using it during his art therapy.

Vaas seemed to agree. He snorted, not even looking up at him when he started speaking. “Did anyone ever tell you it’s fuckin’ rude staring over people’s shoulders?”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you can’t be all that mad about it in a place like this?”

It was a rude thing to say. Maybe even the wrong kind of thing to say to someone like Vaas. Jason almost expected him to blow up like he had before, but instead he let out a breathy laugh. It was barely there at all, but Jason found himself smiling despite his better judgement.

“You know I gotta report this, right?”

“Why? Not like this is so much different from that.” Vaas pointed a thumb over his shoulder, to the group of patients planting flowers.

“No, sure. Nothing at all. It’s not like they are trying to plant flowers and you’re trying to dig your way out of here, though,” Jason stared down at the palette knife again and laughed. “I don’t think you’re gonna get far with that thing.”

“Shows how much you know, hermano,” Vaas mumbled. “Can do anything with a blade like this. Fucking kill if I wanna.”

He said the words so casually, and Jason shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of how far away they were from other people. Vaas turned, noticing the change of attitude, a lazy smirk spreading across his face.

“Yeah? Not so tough are you, huh? Fucking white boy,” he scoffed. “Living in fuck-all suburbia, thinking you got what it takes. Wouldn’t last a fucking day out there.”

Jason halfway wanted to mimic Sam’s words from the other day and tell Vaas to mind his language, but he had a feeling Vaas would do more than just roll his eyes at him then.

“What’d you do if you managed to dig your way out?” he asked instead.

“You got a shit memory or something? You know what I’d do.”

“The beach?”

Vaas smiled, though his eyes remained fixed and passive. They looked lighter in the sunlight, not as glazed over and wild as before, but worn out, like he hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in quite some time.

“Yeah. The beach. Before anything else, I’d go there.”

“Would you take me with you?” Jason had no idea why the words slipped out, and considering the look on Vaas’ face, eyebrows shot up and lips quirked, Vaas didn’t either.

He didn’t answer, instead he dug the pallet knife into the soil and stood up. Vaas was a bit shorter than Jason, but he exuded a strength Jason could only dream of, arms rippling as he brought a hand up to rub his lower lip, sizing Jason up like he had in the music room.

Jason suddenly felt naked under his gaze, and he had to fight the urge to fidget, forcing himself to meet Vaas eyes.

Vaas seemed to feed off whatever it was that he perceived from Jason, and he took a step closer, leaning in so Jason could feel the heat of his breath ghosting over his skin. Jason knew the wise thing would be to back off, tell Vaas to back off, anything, but instead he closed his eyes when Vaas spoke again, voice a low purr.

“You think coming here five times a week makes you like me? Huh?”

It wasn’t just Vaas’ hot breath on Jason’s skin anymore, heat was radiating off Vaas’ body when he took another step towards Jason, his face so close that if Jason turned his head, he’d come cheek-to-cheek with him.

“White boy got the taste for crazy? Hm?” Vaas asked in a husky growl. “For danger?”

Jason was vaguely aware of his breath hitching, but he kept his eyes closed even as he felt Vaas moving away. He didn’t open them until Vaas laughed under his breath, and when he did he found Vaas peering curiously at him.

“Yeah,” Vaas finally said, tone light as he smiled, more genuine than before. “Yeah, I’d take you with me, Jason.”

Vaas left the pallet knife in the ground, brushing his shoulder against Jason’s as he left. Jason didn’t move, he just stared at the hole Vaas had left, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t report it. Because in that moment, Jason totally forgot why he’d initially decided to help Vaas, forgot about Citra, and his need for a job. All he could think about was a sudden urge to help this man out of his captivity for the sake of seeing him free. He deserved that much. Jason didn’t know why or how that conclusion came to him, but he knew it was true. He had to help Vaas be free.


	10. Chapter 10

Jason was lying on a lounge chair, staring up at the sky without a thought in his head. Ollie’s parents were out traveling again, like they always seemed to be, and Ollie had invited them over to hang out and relax around the pool behind his house. In the privacy of his mind, Jason didn’t feel like he was there at all. He was back on the beach, maybe not laying in the sand, but there. His eyes were half-lidded, lashes just barely shielding his eyes from the sun. He could practically hear the waves crashing somewhere below and a cool breeze on his face. His hand gripped the tip of the armrest and he found himself smiling. He could almost feel a warm hand there, holding his in turn.

Jason might have slipped from his pleasant daydream into unconsciousness right then had Keith not shrieked.

“Ri-iley!” he shouted, high-pitched and a little pathetic. “For fuck’s sake, you two, you demand I have a day off and then you splash me!”

“Sorry, Keith,” Riley called back to him.

“You’re such a wimp!” There was nothing apologetic about Ollie’s laugh, however.

Jason rolled his eyes and sat up. As he’d suspected, Keith was standing next to the pool, dripping a bit. Poor bastard was wearing khaki shorts and a t-shirt with no apparent swim trunks, though Jason suspected his main concern was the state of his hair. At the moment he looked more like a drowned cat, his hair flattened awkwardly against his head. Riley and Ollie were standing up to their waists in the water, with a trail of water on the concrete near them suggesting that they had been splashing up a storm only moments before. Ollie himself was still stuck having a giggle fit.

“I hate getting wet! You guys know that!” Keith whined.

“And that’s why you don’t have a girlfriend!” Ollie roared, ignoring Riley as he elbowed him.

“You’re such an asshole,” Keith huffed, glaring at Ollie.

When Ollie realized Riley wasn’t about to laugh, he tickled his sides until Riley cracked a smile and started giggling as well. Keith didn’t look amused at all, trying desperately to spike his hair back up.

“Alright, alright, break it up you two,” Jason chimed in, standing up and picking up the towel draped over his chair. The others actually went quiet, Ollie and Riley smiling sheepishly at him. For a few horrible seconds Jason felt more like a dad than a friend, and he didn’t envy Grant at all. He suspected this was how life was for Grant all the time, babysitting all of them.

He shook his head in an effort to shake the feeling off as well, tossing the towel at Keith, who caught it without trouble, despite still glaring Riley’s way.

“You can get some fresh clothes from my room if you want,” Ollie offered, tipping his head back to smile apologetically at Keith.

Keith pouted a bit, but headed for the glass door inside anyway. Jason caught him mumbling something like, “Didn’t want to be outside anyway” as he went.

Jason waited a few seconds, following Keith with his eyes as he disappeared into the house, before he turned back to the others.

“You really should be nicer to him,” he scolded. “Can’t believe you got him away from work at all.”

They didn’t say anything to that, just shrugged and sank deeper into the water.

“Hey,” Ollie said out of the blue, before pausing as his thoughts compounded. He turned so he could rest a hand on Riley, as though looking for reassurance. Riley seemed content to give Ollie an encouraging smile and the time to figure out what he wanted to say.

“Hey, speaking of girlfriends,” Ollie finally said, eyes lighting up as he looked to Jason. “How’s that Latin lover of yours coming along?”

Jason laughed a bit at that. He headed back to lay in his chair once more.

“Pretty good, actually. I really feel like I’m making progress.”

“Ye-eah?” Ollie prompted. “So are we gonna have another pair to hang out with soon? Been awhile since we done a double-date with Grant and Daisy.”

Jason shrugged as he relaxed and fixed his gaze on the sky.

“Kinda hope so, but that all depends on him.”

“Him?” Riley piped up. “Citra was a guy this whole time?”

“What?” Jason said, blinking as he realized his mistake. “Oh, no, no, no, no.”

Riley squeaked and pushed Ollie with excitement.

“Come on, Jason, if there’s anyone you don’t have to bullshit, it’s us!”

“Yeah. I mean, look at us fags,” Ollie said, leaning over to shove his ass against Riley’s pelvis.

“Classy,” Riley mumbled with a smile and a roll of his eyes.

“No! For the love of God, no, it’s not- it’s not that!” Jason insisted, putting a hand over his forehead. “Seriously, it was just- I just said the wrong thing.”

“Uh huh,” Riley said, smile widening. “Totally not a Freudian slip, I’m sure.”

“Just- forget about it alright?” Jason said, standing up in a huff. “I’m gonna go check on Keith.”

He ignored Riley’s calls and Ollie’s laugh, gritting his teeth as he made his way inside. It didn’t mean anything, what he’d said. The siblings had just preoccupied his thoughts a lot lately, it wasn’t so strange that he’d get them tangled up in his head. No, that made total sense, he decided, shutting the door behind him. That he’d imagined Vaas sitting next to him at the beach just moments before was just another coincidence.

*****

A few days later, Jason found himself back in the courtyard. He was between tasks and had a little time to kill. He tried to convince himself he wasn’t out looking for Vaas, but as he made his way over to the shrub he’d last seen him, he had to admit to himself that it wasn’t quite true.

Vaas wasn’t digging this time, at least not anymore. The hole looked bigger, but Vaas was leaned against the iron fence, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at the sky. Once he heard Jason approach him, he fixed on Jason’s face instead, and Jason swore Vaas’ face lit up before his expression smoothed over.

“Wanna see the tunnels?” Jason didn’t even bother with an introduction, prompting Vaas to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Fuck you talking about?” Vaas’ still had a look of bewilderment on his face, but his tone wasn’t unfriendly.

“The tunnels! Come on!” Jason reached for Vaas’ hand, but thought better of it, and beckoned him along instead.

Vaas shook his head, but got up and followed him across the garden and through the door Keith had shown him either way. They walked down the staircase in silence, despite Vaas’ obvious curiosity, and Jason was suddenly acutely aware of their proximity to one another, not to mention the lack of other people. For the most part, they had been surrounded by at least five other people inside the asylum, apart from the time in the gardens. And that, Jason thought, was where-

Vaas cut off his train of thought when he chuckled.

“You showing me a way out?”

Jason frowned and stared down the dimly lit hallways. He supposed it did look like some sort of escape route, and he scratched at his neck awkwardly.

“Actually,” he started, feeling Vaas’ eyes on him. “I was kinda hoping we could ride bikes down here.”

He turned to look at Vaas, who stared back at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. It was the first time Jason had heard him laugh wholeheartedly, not breathy, sarcastic or even cruel, but sincere and contagious. Jason started laughing as well, and soon they were both gasping for air, Vaas leaned back against the stone wall while clutching his side.

“You-” Vaas started, reaching up to prod Jason’s forehead. “-are fucking crazy, you know that? Riding bikes.” He snorted out another burst of laugher.

“Maybe I belong in here more than you do.” Jason agreed, and this time he gave Vaas a playful little bump with his shoulder.

“Yeah, hermano. We’re all fucking mad here.”

“You don’t seem mad to me,” Jason said, suddenly serious, and he realized he meant it. Angry and a bit unpredictable, sure, but that applied to at least half his classmates at university too.

“Oh, I’m mad,” Vaas knotted his brow and faux-glared at Jason. “I’m fucking pissed, white boy. I thought I was getting out of here.”

Jason started laughing again, and Vaas gave an amused slanted grin, before he started walking down one of the hallways.

“So fucking bikes, huh?”

“Keith told me patients were allowed to. I thought maybe you’d-” He cut himself off. “No, I guess that’s pretty dumb.”

“Pretty dumb, yeah,” Vaas agreed, but the look he sent Jason was mild.

“If it’s not your thing, then maybe we can-”

“No, I like this,” Vaas hummed.

Jason realized they hadn’t turned on the overhead lighting, their faces illuminated by the soft emergency lights only. It seemed like a different world, somehow, like a dream. Even with no proper lighting, it wasn’t hard for them to navigate the hallways. Jason knew he was probably breaking all sorts of protocols bringing Vaas down here in the dark, alone, but, at that moment, he realized he didn’t care. They walked in comfortable silence, glancing in the many corridors that branched out from the main one, thought they never strayed from their path.

Jason was about to ask if Vaas wanted to head back, when their knuckled brushed together. Jason had to contain a gasp; he hadn’t realized how close they suddenly were.

“You been down here before?” Vaas glanced at him in the dark.

“Not this far. Keith just showed me from the bottom of the staircase,” Jason explained with a shrug. “I just- I saw it and thought of you.”

“You think about me, hm?” Vaas’ voice had almost a purring sort of quality to it, and Jason felt heat rise to his cheeks. Thank God it was dark down here.

“Figured you were a mean bike rider,” he fibbed. 

Vaas gave a little chuckle at that. He was still looking at Jason, the light reflecting off his eyes to the point where he seemed like some kind of night predator. He didn’t say anything, just kept those strange, pale eyes fixed on Jason’s face.

“So-” Jason started, awkwardly, trying to fill the silence that had suddenly fallen over them.

“So,” Vaas echoed with a hint of amusement, leaning closer to Jason.

Jason couldn’t help himself; he swallowed hard and took a step back. He closed his eyes for a second, remembering that unfamiliar feeling Vaas evoked in him, the dizzying heat and scent of Vaas’ body. Coming down here was definitely a mistake. 

When he opened them back up, Vaas was still staring at his face, but his expression had changed. 

“You been real nice to me, Jason,” Vaas finally said, any mocking overtones completely gone. “I don’t get it.”

Jason had to think for a moment. Truth be told, he didn’t really understand it himself. The only thing that came to mind was that he liked Vaas. He really liked him.

“I like you,” he said, cringing a little at how childish the words sounded outside his own head.

“You like me?”

Jason couldn’t tell if the smile on Vaas’ face was mocking or sincere, and he shrugged, suddenly more than a little unsure of himself.

“So what-” Vaas leaned closer, trailing a careful finger along Jason’s forearm. “- do you like exactly?”

Jason didn’t move away, even though he knew he should have. He just closed his eyes again, shuddering a little at the contact.

“I, uh-” He started, but as Vaas’ hand brushed his own, he realized he didn’t know how to finish the sentence. This whole thing was suddenly getting a lot heavier than he knew how to deal with.

“Is it-” Vaas leaned closer, his words ghosting over Jason’s skin. “-my musical genius?”

Jason released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding, chuckling in relief at the lightness of tone. Vaas smiled wider in front of him and Jason halfway expected Vaas to move away. He didn’t, instead he intertwined their fingers gently.

“Or how about-” Vaas continued, his voice not much more than a whisper, and he stepped closer still, his face just a couple of inches away from Jason’s. “- how I paint big, fluffy tigers so good?”

The words sounded so alien coming out of Vaas’ mouth, and Jason had to contain a giggle. Maybe it was just the situation that was making him giddy and not the words themselves. In fact, he felt more than a little giddy. He felt lightheaded, a strange, hot feeling flushing his chest and head.

Vaas’ eyes flickered quickly down to Jason’s lips before they went back up to Jason’s eyes.

“I think I like you too,” Vaas murmured, leaning forward. 

Even though Jason’s heart had been pounding from Vaas’ obvious advances, even though he watched Vaas lean closer, he was still surprised to feel the other man’s lips on his. 

At the sudden, unexpected contact, Jason made a strangled whine, following Vaas’ lips with his his own when Vaas pulled away. 

Would it be a cliche to say the world melted away when their lips connected? Probably, but at the moment Jason didn’t care. He pressed his body against Vaas’, forcing him up against the rough tunnel wall.

“Guess you are crazy.” Vaas half-chuckled, half-groaned against Jason’s lips.

“Fuck, yes, I am,” Jason agreed before pushing forward and stealing any more words from both of them.

Vaas’ lips weren’t delicate or yielding, not that Jason had expected them to be, but kissing Vaas felt like a fight. It was unlike any kiss Jason had ever shared, and he wasn’t sure whether to struggle or surrender. 

In the end, he didn’t have to make a choice at all as the harsh lights over them suddenly flickered to life. Jason broke away from Vaas like he was burned, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand. Vaas blinked furiously against the sudden bright lights, his lips a bit swollen and Jason hoped his own didn’t look the same.

“Is anyone down here?”

Jason flinched at the strange voice. He’d half-hoped it would be Keith who had wandered down the stairs to ramble about architecture to himself. He glanced back at Vaas, trying to decide if it would be better to hide down here or admit their presence and whatever consequences that would entail. Vaas didn’t seem to share his uneasiness, instead he studied Jason’s expression with a lazy smirk on his face.

“Yeah,” Jason finally called back, motioning for Vaas to follow him back. “I- uh. I couldn’t find the light switch.”

“I thought we were playing hide and seek, or some shit.” Vaas grinned, sidestepping the swap from Jason’s hand.

It would probably be a better excuse, but as they walked back to the entrance and the nurse came into view, Jason knew she wouldn’t be fooled anyway.

It was the same, sour nurse he’d met one of the first days; he’d recognize that scowl anywhere.

“Vaas Montenegro,” she all but sneered, fixing him with a cold stare. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. It’s time for your medication. You know what happens if you try to snake your way out of it.” She turned to Jason, her expression unchanged. “And you. It’s against regulation to take patients down here alone.”

“I-I didn’t know,” Jason stuttered, shaking his head.

“And you didn’t even bother asking?” She gave a huff of indignation. “It doesn’t matter, I suppose. Come along, Vaas.”

Vaas started towards the stairs in front of her, but he shot a grin in Jason’s direction before he even started walking. The nurse caught it too, and she eyed Jason suspiciously.

“It won’t happen again,” Jason assured her, giving her a trying smile that she didn’t reciprocate.

“You’re quite right about that.”

She turned and walked up the stairs before Jason had the chance to say anything, the hot feeling from before replaced by cold apprehension.


	11. Chapter 11

Jason was used to the little yellow post-it notes he’d find just about everywhere. On his computer monitor, his coffee cup, and on one memorable occasion, on the back of his right thigh. What he wasn’t used to, was being called in to see the Director of Calvary Point himself, Hoyt Volker. Keith hadn’t said much about him, and from what Jason had gathered he hadn’t dealt with the man personally.

He squinted at the short message written on the note. “Jason- see Dr. Volker, room 304.” His office was up on the third floor, and Jason made his way there with a slight uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The nurse’s words kept replaying in his head, although he knew she didn’t have more than slight suspicions. It wasn’t like the tunnels had video surveillance or something, right? Jason swallowed thickly. He hadn’t spent a lot of time up on the third floor, as it contained mostly administrator offices. The formality of the place didn’t help ease his nerves.

Hoyt’s office was in the middle of the large hallway, with a large reception area where Jason sat down. The plaque on the ornate double-doors said his name and title, and Jason found himself trying to imagine what Hoyt might want with him.

He imagined some stereotypical receptionist in a fitted pencil skirt to show him in, but Hoyt opened the doors himself and invited Jason in with a sweep of his hand.

“Jason Brody. Come in.”

He had a thick, harsh accent that unnerved Jason, despite the seemingly jovial tone, and he slunk into the room. Hoyt’s office was large, one half from the original build, the outer half a new addition. The new addition was an all glass structure that stuck out from the outer wall, and didn’t contain anything besides Hoyt’s desk.

“Sit down then.” Hoyt made a strange little curl with his top lip,

Jason sat down in one of the chairs facing Hoyt’s desk, shifting awkwardly on the uncomfortable, squeaky leather.

Hoyt sat down across from him, but didn’t address Jason straight away. Instead he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk. If Jason had been confused about Willis Huntley’s appearance, it was nothing compared to Dr. Volker.

From a first glance he looked more like a dealer pimp than even Willis had, his red shirt unbuttoned to show off a thick gold chain and his hair neatly combed and dyed to hide a receding hairline.

“So,” Hoyt started, clearing his throat and giving Jason a smile that seemed more shark-like than friendly. “I hear you’ve been finding your place here at Point Calvary? Getting along with the patients?”

“Uh, sure, sir. I like them alright and they seem to like me.”

Hoyt shot him a glance over his stack of paper, his lip curling once again.

“I trust you familiarized yourself with the rules of conduct here?”

“Yes, sir.” Jason wondered if there was a way to will away the pearls of sweat that had formed on his forehead, his fingers itching to wipe the moisture off. “I read them over twice before signing them.”

“So I don’t have to repeat the sections about prohibition against romantic or sexual relationships, no matter how...” He paused, showing teeth in another grimace. “What do you kids call it? No matter how much you want to have a go at each other?”

“Is there a reason why you’re asking me this, Dr. Volker?” Jason forced his voice to sound mildly curious, and not the absolute bone-shattering nervousness he felt.

Hoyt gave Jason another smile that showed far too many teeth, before standing up and staring out the window.

“No reason at all, Jason Brody. Just making sure.”

Jason wondered if Hoyt had taken classes in intimidation techniques, because just the mention of Jason’s full name had him sweating bullets, his stomach doing strange little cartwheels and lurches. Hoyt didn’t say anything else, and Jason got the distinct feeling he was being excused. He stood up as well, fidgeting a little while waiting for Hoyt to say something.

“Well, if that’s all, sir,” he started, discreetly wiping his forehead now that Hoyt had his back turned. Even if he had eyes in the back of the head, he must be aware of the effect he had on people, and expect Jason to act like every other sane person would.

“Fine, fine.” Hoyt did a careless little wave of his hand. “I know you orderlies have a lot to do. Don’t let me stop you from doing your job.”

Jason breathed out, trying to make the exhale as quiet as possible. Hoyt didn’t make any sign of turning around to see him off, and Jason couldn’t say he was disappointed. In fact, if he could make it through his time here at Calvary Point without ever seeing Hoyt Volker again, he’d be more than a little happy. The guy was as unnerving as he was uncomfortable.

He wasn’t that lucky though, because Hoyt’s voice broke the silence as Jason reached for the gilded doorknob.

“And Brody?” He said, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Jason smiled and nodded, but hesitated for a moment before opening the door, trying to think of anything he thought Hoyt Volker wouldn’t do. What scared him was that he couldn’t think of a single thing.

*****

Jason felt like he was in a daze for the rest of the day, even getting startled when Dr. Earnhardt tried to talk to him about mushrooms and their psychedelic compounds. Jason knew he should pay attention, if only for Ollie’s sake, but he couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable, clammy feeling he’d had ever since entering Hoyt’s office.

He’d had the routine of seeing Vaas whenever he had a moment, and now, truth be told, he was afraid to even glance in Vaas’ direction. Something Vaas seemed to have picked up on, because he suddenly appeared everywhere Jason went. Jason would see his familiar mohawk in a sea of patients, and his stomach would do another lurch, though from a completely different reason than before.

Jason made a concerted effort to avoid crowded areas in an effort to keep Vaas at a distance, but in the end, that was his undoing. As he rounded a corner in the residential area of the wing, Jason found himself face-to-face with Vaas, who was leaning up against a wall. Bastard must have been watching him.

“So why the fuck are you avoiding me?” Vaas asked, lifting his head up. It was more an accusation than a question, and Vaas stared at him with a bitter curve of his lower lip.

Jason didn’t know what to say for a second, eyes opened wide as he looked around him, though, whether he was looking for the blinking light from a surveillance camera or the unblinking stare from the angry nurse, he couldn’t say. Maybe he just wanted to convey all the things he needed to say, but couldn’t. Vaas either didn’t notice or didn’t care about his signals as he stepped closer with a crease between his eyes.

“Ey, you deaf, white boy? Fuck’s your problem?” Vaas said, straightening himself as he moved up to Jason, stopping just a few inches shy of his face.

What was the protocol for this? Jason searched his brain frantically.

“Mr. Montenegro,” he said instead, and Vaas stopped dead in his track, searching Jason’s face. “I’ve been given a review of the rules here at Calvary Point and I need you to take a few steps back.”

That seemed to get the point across, but maybe not in the way Jason had intended. Vaas didn’t back off, instead he moved towards him again, the corners of his mouth curling up in a smirk. Jason finally stepped back, and Vaas’ smirk widened into a predatory grin, like a wolf staring down a sheep.

“Aw, you been talking with someone, Jason? You scared?” He took another step towards Jason. “That’s just fucking cute. You’re fucking cute, you know that?”

“This is my fucking job, Vaas.” Jason hissed, staring around them for any prying eyes. “You might not have anything to lose, but I do!”

Vaas narrowed his eyes, his expression turning sour.

“I don’t, huh?” Vaas said, cocking his head. “Well, if I got nothing to lose, then I might as well do this, right?” He pushed Jason back against a door, pressing his body against Jason’s while he fiddled for the handle that was currently pressing against Jason’s back. Jason hadn’t even realized how close Vaas had brought them to the wall.

They stumbled backwards once he managed to turn the handle, half-way falling against a shelf full of towels and toilet paper, Vaas’ mouth claiming Jason’s again as the door shut behind them. 

His lips were warm and soft, yet hard at the same time, teeth nipping on Jason’s lower lip when he tried to move away. This wasn’t like the kiss in the tunnels; no, this time it felt like Vaas was on a mission, his lips leaving Jason’s to trail down his neck, pulling his shirt up and dropping to his knees so he could kiss his stomach.

“Vaas, what the fuck are you fucking-” Jason’s hiss turned into a drawn-out moan when Vaas’ lips brushed against his hip bone, hooking his thumbs in Jason’s khakis so he could pull them down further. Jason tried to bat Vaas’ hands away, despite his cock screaming at him not to, but Vaas didn’t budge. He merely laughed against Jason’s skin like this was all a game.

“Sh, sh, sh, blanquito,” Vaas whispered. “Don’t want anyone to know you’re taking advantage of me, huh?”

Jason let out a sound that was something between a laugh and a moan, his hips doing an involuntary jerk against Vaas touch.

“You act all high and mighty, white boy,” Vaas snickered, palming Jason through his pants. “But you’re fucking hard. Really got the taste for danger, don’t you?”

“Fuck, Vaas.” Jason groaned. He told himself to pull Vaas away, but when his hands found Vaas, it was to pull him closer.

“I’m not going nowhere, Jason,” Vaas breathed against his skin.

Vaas cast a quick glance up at Jason before he focused all his attention on Jason’s belt, opening it painfully slow, his smirk widening when Jason made a startled sound.

“Vaas, no, we can’t.”

“Sure we can. Ain’t no one here, hermano.” Vaas mumbled against the fabric of Jason’s boxers, the vibration and warmth from his voice making Jason jolt against him.

Jason grabbed on to Vaas shirt, holding him firmly, but not moving away. Not even as Vaas palmed his erection again and started pulling his underwear down.

Jason knocked his head back against the shelves, biting his lips and hating himself for being weak enough to give in. Then Vaas freed him from the tight confines of his underwear.

Vaas whistled once he had Jason’s cock in his hand, giving it a few experimental strokes. It was enough to make Jason groan, hands tightening in the fabric of Vaas’ shirt.

“This a thing for you? Getting sucked off in a closet? Where anyone could walk in? You’re fucking hard as a rock.”

Something about those words coming from Vaas’ lips had Jason arch towards him again, mumbling something he wasn’t entirely sure what was.

“Fuck, so impatient, white boy.” Vaas leaned down, carefully swiping his tongue against the head of Jason’s cock. “Dios, que guapo.”

“Fuck,” Jason groaned when Vaas tightened his lips against him, letting Jason breach their tight seal with a slow thrust of his hips

Vaas’ lips curled around his cock, moving his tongue against him. The way he looked just then, head tilted up toward Jason’s enough for him to see the way his cock slid in and out of Vaas’ mouth, his eyes fixed on Jason’s face, there wasn’t any way to describe it.

He had to wonder if it was wrong somehow for his desire to be fueled by the possibility of getting caught doing it, wrong for him to only want Vaas more after the little chat with Hoyt.

“God, you feel good.” Jason moved his hand up to Vaas’ jaw. More than anything he wanted to tangle his fingers in Vaas’ hair, but he kept himself from doing it, fingers curling at the edge of Vaas’ jaw instead.

Jason moved his free hand up to his own mouth, pressing the palm of his hand against his mouth to keep from letting any sounds escape.

“No, hermano,” Vaas pulled back, keeping the rhythm with his hand while he spoke. “I wanna hear all those sounds you make.”

“I can’t-” Jason croaked, “We can’t.”

“Not responsible for my actions, white boy,” Vaas snickered against Jason before he swallowed him down again.

“Fuck, Vaas, if you keep that up…” He didn’t finish his train of thought, too caught up in what Vaas was doing. Vaas either didn’t understand or understood all too well, moving his head faster, his tongue zig-zagging under the head of Jason’s cock despite his warning.

It didn’t matter if Jason clamped his hand over his mouth again, the whimpers he just couldn’t contain still slipped out through his fingers.

Vaas moved his other hand to Jason’s hip, holding him firmly in place while he pumped his shaft with the other. It didn’t matter what Jason did at this point. He was gonna come whether he wanted to or not. He could feel pleasure pool in his lower abdomen, tense and hot, making his knees shake.

“Vaas…!” Jason warned, but Vaas didn’t ease his grip on him, his mouth turning up at the corners.

The pressure in his lower abdomen built up to the point where Jason was sure he was about to pass out, and he braced himself on Vaas’ shoulders with both hands, clinging to him for dear life as his release almost knocked him off his feet.

Vaas was ruthless, still holding him firmly in place, his tongue not easing up as Jason rode through his orgasm.

“Vaas- Fuck- You gotta-” Jason stammered incoherently, his hips doing a final shuddering thrust against Vaas’ mouth.

Vaas leaned back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face.

“You gonna keep avoiding me?” He asked, tucking Jason back in his pants. There was a certain cockiness to his tone, but when he straightened up, eyes firmly focused on Jason’s face, a hint of sadness had entered his expression.

Jason felt too dazed to answer, just leaned in and pressed his lips against Vaas’. Nothing mattered except the desperate need to be close to him. Vaas’ expression changed, eagerly returning the kiss, smirking when Jason flinched at the taste of himself on Vaas’ lips and tongue. He didn’t pull away, just held on tighter on Vaas’ hips, pulling him closer with a possessive tug.

Vaas made a low sound of pleasure against Jason’s lips when Jason did a slow, calculated roll of his hips, so caught up in the moment that they didn’t realize straight away that they weren’t alone.

Not until Willis cleared his throat. Vaas made no attempts to move, but Jason pushed him away, desperately trying to button up his pants without Willis noticing.

“Mr. Huntley! Uh, I can explain-”

“Don’t bother, kid, I see how it is,” he said, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

“Yo, Willis,” Vaas said, giving him a familiar smile that Jason hadn’t seen him give anyone before. How he could sound so confident while his lips were still swollen from sucking Jason’s cock, Jason didn’t know.

“Montenegro,” Willis acknowledged before turning to Jason. “You have violated about 23 rules and regulations in being here with him doing what I know you two were doing. That’s cause for immediate expulsion from your position and an order to come no more than 500 feet from the hospital for the next fifteen years under fear of anywhere from a thousand dollar fine to four years in prison or, God help you, 200 hours of community service. Elsewhere. We take the safety of our patients very seriously. Do you understand this?”

Jason’s heart sunk lower and lower as Willis gave him the legal ramifications spiel. He wasn’t getting out of this one.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, trying not to look at Vaas, who was smirking despite Willis’ words.

“Then I have only one question for you: what do you want me to do about this?”

“I- uh.” Jason looked up and squinted at Willis. “What?”

“I could bust you right here, don’t think I couldn’t, but I want you to ask me not to. Do you not want me to Brody?”

“No. I mean, yes, I mean-” Jason shook his head. “Could you please not bust me? I really need this job, I really need-” He cut himself short, but next to him he could tell Vaas was smiling, probably guessing what Jason was about to say.

“Aw, Jason, you’re sweet,” Vaas said, patting his shoulder.

Jason ignored him.

“‘Course I won’t, Jason,” Willis said, his lips quirking like Jason had just said something especially stupid. “You’re a good kid, I don’t want you going anywhere.”

“Oh.”

Jason’s mind was blank for a moment. Willis was weird, but he hadn’t thought he’d be the kind of guy to break rules to help out. Come to think of it, it wasn’t just Willis, this whole situation was really weird.

“So, what are you doing here?”

“I ask the questions around here, Brody,” Willis snapped back right away, leaving no time for argument. “Now then, Montenegro and I are gonna exit first and then you will count to a hundred and go from there. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it, sure,” Jason said. Much as he didn’t appreciate being brushed off, Willis now had dirt on him and he didn’t need to dig himself deeper.

“Wonderful,” Willis said flatly, cracking the door and peeking out before opening it wide. “You first Vaas.”

“Yeah, whatever, man,” Vaas said, rolling his eyes. “See, Jason? He’s chill. You worry too much.”

He gave Jason a wink before exiting. Jason had to wonder how Vaas and Willis had gotten so chummy in the first place, given how he treated everyone else at the hospital

Willis was looking at him when Jason turned around, expression carefully hidden behind his sunglasses. “Be less obvious next time, will you?”

Jason nodded furiously, and Willis curtly nodded back.

“Oh, and you owe me,” he added just before heading back out the door.

Jason sighed and began to count under his breath. One, two, three, four… It was stupid, but he kept doing it anyway. Willis must have told him to do it for a reason after all. Sometimes Jason got the sense that no matter what he said or did, at the end of the day nothing was ever in his hands.


	12. Chapter 12

“Ja-a-ason.”

Jason grunted and tried to roll around, the vaguely familiar sing-song-y voice cutting through his dreams like a knife.

At that moment, he really didn’t want to wake up. In his dream he was soaring through the sky with Vaas, their fingers intertwined with air rushing in their ears. He felt free, for the first time in a long time, and Vaas’ delightful shrieks next to him just accentuated the feeling.

“Jason!” The voice was more insistent now, shaking his shoulders gently.

“Mmmm,” Jason grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. “No.”

“I gotta say,” the voice said, the tone not hiding the mirth, “this isn’t what I had in mind when I requested extended leave to see you guys.”

Jason finally shot his eyes up, squinting against the sun, his heart hammering when he realized Grant was just a few inches from his face.

“Grant!”

Grant grinned and pulled Jason in a hug.

“How? When?”

And this was another reason why Jason loved Grant as much as he did. He never treated Jason like he was stupid when he had a question, no, he just grinned and ruffled through Jason’s hair like he had since they were children, the gesture as comforting as it was familiar.

“Well-” he started. “-it’s pretty much like any other job, really. Just had to complete a form requesting leave and once it was approved I was out of there.”

“But you didn’t tell me!” A thought struck him and he narrowed his eyes. “Did mom know? Riley?”

“Couldn’t be a surprise if I told everyone, now could it?” Grant winked and stood up.

Despite the familiar grin, it was still strange seeing Grant with a buzz cut and a uniform. It was like a funhouse mirror, peering into a strange alternate version of their lives. One where Grant wasn’t just ‘dad-light’, but an actual responsible adult. It was unnerving really, and Jason wondered briefly if Grant felt the same way about him.

“Mom’s downstairs making the Brody Special.”

Jason’s stomach grumbled loudly at the words and they both burst out laughing. And just like that, despite the lingering feeling of change, things almost felt back to normal.

*****

The Brody Special was the term they had come up with to describe the chaos that was their usual Sunday morning. Jason had to give it to their mom, she didn’t do anything half-way. The table was stacked with everything from shrimp tostadas, barbequed strips of beef, refried beans, California rolls and, in keeping with Margareth’s background, Welsh rarebit.

He allowed himself a moment of pensive silence, studying his family while spreading guacamole on a roll. They were all relaxed and laughing, Riley gesticulating wildly while telling Grant about his flying lessons. Margareth was laughing along with them, the lines on her face smoothed out, making her look at least ten years younger. Things felt back to normal then, like it was before dad died, before Grant left for the army. Even though it was a Friday, he felt transported back to every single Sunday morning in his childhood, happy, safe and warm.

Truth be told, Jason had no idea how she’d managed after their father’s death. Being a single parent like that, feeding three growing sons... Jason shook his head, surprised at the directions his thoughts had taken. 

“Hey, J, where’d you go?”

“Huh?” Jason wasn’t even aware that he’d completely ignored the food and the conversation. “Whad’ya mean?”

“Mom says you got a job?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.”

“Well?” Grant prompted, and Jason had to take a sip of orange juice to camouflage that he had no idea what to say about it. At least not without mentioning Vaas, and he wasn’t sure if any of them, including himself, was ready for that.

“It’s good. It’s real good actually. It’s a nice old Victorian building, like something straight out of a novel,” he was well aware that he sounded like Keith, and judging by Grant’s raised eyebrow, he found it equally ridiculous. To Grant’s credit, he didn’t call attention to it, but the look he sent Jason definitely meant they would be talking about it later. Great.

“Our little Jay-Bear is growing up!” Margareth beamed, shooting Jason a tender look. “My boys are all getting so big.”

“Mo-om.” Jason whined, ignoring Grant’s look of amusement.

“Oh shush, a mother is allowed to feel sentimental. It feels like just yesterday when you were in diapers, showing your bum off to-” Jason promptly shot across the table, stuffing half a California roll into his mother’s mouth before she could finish the sentence.

*****

Jason had previously dreaded the days where he was stuck doing monotonous receptionist work, but at least out here he didn’t have to worry about bumping into Vaas. Be less obvious, Willis had told them, but Jason wasn’t sure if Vaas had it in him to be subtle. Well, Jason had enough trouble staying subtle as well, blushing like a teenage girl whenever Vaas gave him a certain look. Vaas seemed delighted with this newfound knowledge, and had taken it upon himself to get a rise out of Jason whenever he had the chance.

He felt an unfamiliar bout of melancholy. It was strange being at work. The previous weeks he had been excited about coming in, not because of the work per se, but because of Citra and, later, Vaas.

Now he was all but squirming in his seat, feeling everyone’s gaze at him like they all knew. It certainly didn’t help when Willis passed him in the hallway, sizing him up and down while wiggling his eyebrows with a conspiratory smirk. No, he definitely didn’t like this, and for the past few hours he had experienced what could only be described as the heartburn from Hell. Sure, It might be the sheer amount of cheese sauce and beef from this morning, but he had a feeling stress had a part as well. In any case he could see a considerable amount of alka-seltzer in his immediate future.

No matter what distractions he filled his days with, there was still this nagging sensation in the back of his mind telling him that he was no longer the master of his own life, and no matter what he did he would always be stuck feeling like he was on the outside looking in. The restlessness he had previously tried to cure with adrenaline was replaced with something else, something terrifying. For once he actually wanted to really sort out his life, get a direction and a footing. Maybe the others had been right about a job being good for him, maybe he was finally growing up after all. He decided then that growing up was overrated.

*****

It was Friday, which meant Keith would start his shift as Jason ended his. As much as he enjoyed working with Keith, he found he enjoyed their routine of having lunch together before parting ways as well.

Keith strolled in the doors about half an hour before his shift started, his lofty expression giving way to a goofy grin.

“Hey, Jason, my man,” he said with an awkward pat to Jason’s shoulder, and Jason had to contain a cringe. “Grant’s back home?”

“For a short leave, yeah.”

“Cool, cool,” Keith smiled to himself as they walked together to the cafeteria. “You coming tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Jason replied, though just the thought of the drinks Ollie served at parties had his stomach lurching. Not to mention the amount of kissing he’d have to endure once Grant and Daisy were in the same room again.

He let Keith ramble on until they reached the cafeteria, where they both grabbed lunch and sat down by the windows.

“Not hungry?” Keith nodded in the direction of the yogurt cup on Jason’s tray.

“Uh, big breakfast.”

Keith seemed satisfied with that explanation, and they started eating in comfortable silence. Jason just stirred his yogurt for the majority of the lunch, eyes scanning the outside world. The grounds were covered with a small woods’ worth of trees with a backroad beyond that. Jason had never really taken the time to take a good look out the windows on this side of the building so the image struck him as new and different. It was an odd thing for him take notice of, really. He’d gone globetrotting many times, but, come to think of it, he could barely remember the most basic scenery from outside his hotel windows or below the planes he’d taken. It was always go-go-go for him and he never took the time to notice. Weird.

“Hey, hermano.”

Jason almost dropped his spoon, and whipped his head around to find Vaas’ grinning face uncomfortably close to his own.

“Vaas, you know patients aren’t allowed in here,” Keith chastised mildly, though Jason noticed he pushed the plastic knife further under his plate.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Vaas said, gesturing towards Jason and giving Keith a dirty look. “I wasn’t talking to you, okay? I’m talking to Jason here.”

“What do you need?” Jason glanced up at Vaas’ face, hoping what he saw there wasn’t as plainly visible to everyone else.

“Uh, I need help.”

“Something wrong, Vaas?” Keith sounded concerned, but Vaas didn’t even offer him a second glance.

“Help with what?”

“It’s the fucking tiger, amigo, it just won’t stand still,” Vaas’ lips did a twitch and he bit down on it seemingly to prevent himself from laughing.

“Right,” Jason sighed, shooting Keith an apologetic look. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Sure, Jase, no problem,” Keith seemed puzzled, before quickly turning his attention back to his food. Jason knew he didn’t have anything to worry about; Keith could be blind as a bat sometimes. Or a lot.

Jason followed Vaas through the hallways, trying not to keep his gaze too fixed on Vaas’ body. He swore he was swaying his hips like that on purpose. He’d gotten pretty good at curbing his emotions during his working hours, telling himself that it didn’t mean anything, that he didn’t feel a thing. Seeing him though, being close to him, made his heart beat faster no matter what he tried to tell himself.

“So are you gonna tell me what the deal is?”

Vaas looked at him over his shoulder, but didn’t answer, just led him over to secluded seating area by the glass doors leading out into the vestibule. Once there he turned to Jason, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Willis said we had to be less obvious, amigo, not that we couldn’t do it.”

Jason started laughing before he could stop it, and Vaas looked very pleased with himself.

“So, no tiger then?”

“You haven’t been paying attention, have you Jason?” Vaas clicked his tongue. “There’s always a fucking tiger and it’s always starving.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re the tiger, huh?”

“Aren’t you fucking smart, blanquito?” Vaas said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s part of me like your lung’s part of you.”

“What, it lets you breathe?”

“Just ‘cause you don’t see it don’t mean it’s not there,” Vaas explained, prodding Jason in a the chest. “It’s always there, Jason. But it likes you.”

Jason didn’t have time to dwell on Vaas’ words. He turned his head back for just a second to see a red pickup in the lot outside before risking a glance at his phone. 7:30. It was already way later than he’d anticipated. Grant was picking him up and as much as he loved his brother, he wasn’t quite ready for a conversation about Vaas just yet. Especially not while he couldn’t even figure their situation out himself.

“Listen, Vaas, I gotta go. There’s this party, and-”

"A- party?" Vaas narrowed his eyes and studied Jason's face. "What kinda party?"

"Uh, you know. Drinks, music..." Jason trailed off. Truth be told, he felt a little backed into a corner. He could see Grant crossing the parking lot already and Vaas was looking more than a little impatient in front of him. “Just a normal party,” he finished lamely.

Grant had finally entered the vestibule and had his head tilted up in awe of the large space. Then when he noticed Jason on the other side of the glass doors, he raised one hand as a greeting, smiling and gesticulating to the door.

There was no way Grant would be allowed into the premises of the actual hospital, so Jason shook his head and pointed at the front door, to which Grant gave a nod and a thumbs up.

"You know him?" Vaas asked stiffly, following Grant with his eyes as he left.

"Oh yeah, I know him alright," Jason said with a half-smile, glancing in Grant's direction.

Vaas got a strange, closed look on his face. It was an expression Jason hadn’t seen on him before, and he knew he was being a jerk for not clearing up who Grant was, but there was something so endearing about a jealous Vaas.

"He the one you're going with?" Vaas cleared his throat. "To your fucking party?"

"Yup,” Jason said, the half-smile widening to a smirk. “He'll be bringing me home after too."

The previously endearing look on Vaas' face turned into a deep scowl, and there was nothing cute about it anymore. Jason was so used to the playful bickering he and Liza had shared, and realized with a start that falling into the same pattern with a mental patient he, truth be told, didn’t know all that well, might not be a great idea.

"He's my brother, Vaas," Jason hurriedly said, before Vaas had a chance to do or say something really stupid. Or murder him, for that matter.

"Brother, huh?" Vaas' scowl smoothed out, but his tone remained suspicious. "Then whatever."

"Glad I have your permission," Jason mumbled, shaking his head.

He wasn’t sure if Vaas understood the sarcasm or just decided to ignore it, because he suddenly looked really smug. 

“That’s another thing about tigers, hermano,” Vaas purred “We don’t share.”

Jason just shook his head again, but with a laugh this time.

“I give up,” he said, tossing his hands in the air. “You’re hopeless.”

That only made Vaas’ smirk grow even further and he was positively preening by the time Jason turned to leave.

“See you tomorrow, Vaas,” Jason said over his shoulder, wondering again how he’d gotten himself into this situation in the first place.

*****

The car ride with Grant started out unusually quiet. The streets were pretty empty and Jason didn’t really feel like talking. Hell, he didn’t really feel like going to the party at all. If anything, all Jason wanted to do was go home, lay in bed alone, and think about everything that was going on in his life. So he stared out of the window and listened to the humming of their old truck.

“Okay, Jason, what’s with the bellyache look?” Grant said suddenly, pulling him out of his trance.

“What?” Jason said, sitting up a bit. “I don’t know what-”

“Yes, you do,” Grant broke in. “Your hands are on your stomach and you’ve barely said anything. What’s the matter?”

Jason sighed as he realized that, yes indeed, he was gripping at his belly. Why did Grant always have to be right?

“I don’t know, Grant, things have just been complicated lately.”

“How lately? Since you started at this hospital thing?”

How was it that even when Grant had spent months away, he was immediately able to read Jason like an open book?

“Yeah. I didn’t even mean to stay on it for this long, but I can’t leave now.”

“You’re not getting extorted, are you?” Grant asked, tone taking a serious turn.

“What? No! I just-”

“So you met someone then.” The tension drained from Grant’s face and smoothed into a smile.

“Yeah,” Jason admitted through his teeth. “I don’t know how to leave anymore.”

“You guys got problems?” They were stopping at an intersection and Grant turned to look at him. Jason shifted, almost afraid to meet his brother’s all-knowing gaze.

“Yeah, we’ve got a problem alright.”

“Ah,” Grant said with a subtle nod. “That kinda problem, huh?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Jason, you might fool mom all the time, but you’re never gonna fool me.”

“I’m not fooling,” Jason insisted.

“Tell me about her, Jason.”

Jason gave a snort. Grant never gave up and the more Jason squirmed, the more Grant would dig his heels in.

“She’s- he’s something else,” Jason started, scratching at the fabric of his pants. “Weird. Unpredictable. Always knows more than he says or thinks.”

“Sounds like you, J,” Grant commented with a smile.

Now there was a thought. Jason hadn’t actually considered how much Vaas was like him. Maybe he’d been avoiding it, given that Vaas was locked up in an asylum.

“Maybe he is,” Jason said with a shrug.

“So you really care about him then?”

“I guess,” Jason mumbled. “He makes it hard sometimes, but I always come back so. Yeah.”

“That's how it is with people like that.”

Grant smiled to himself and went quiet. Jason thrummed his fingers against the dashboard waiting for an explanation that never came. The seconds crawled by for a few minutes before he finally took the bait.

“People like what?”

“People you love,” Grant immediately chirped, casual as could be.

Jason just about every choked on his own spit.

“Love? I don't- I don't love him, it's not like that.”

“Sure, it's not.” Grant shook his head with a laugh. “Shoulda known that was the deal. You know, Riley did the same bellyache thing before him and Ollie got together.”

Jason groaned. He did remember Riley’s constant pining before finally fessing up; remembered him laying in bed like he had a stomach ache for weeks. Goddammit, it must be genetic.

“Well, even if I did love him, it wouldn’t matter anyway,” Jason grumbled, leaning forward to pick at the peeling wood paneling with a frown.

“Of course it matters, what are you talking about?”

“He's a patient, Grant, I'm a handler. There's a hundred rules against it.” Jason slumped back in his seat with a sigh.

“O-oh.” Grant hummed with uncertainty. “That is an issue.”

“Yeah, well…” Jason went back to staring out the window, while Grant hesitated with a tight-lipped frown.

“I don't know, Jason, that’s really tough,” he finally said. “But if you both really love each other, you'll work it out.”

Jason flinched. Love. That word again. It was another one of those adult words that Jason wasn’t sure how to feel about. All he knew was that he didn’t want to confront it, even if he felt like a scared child ignoring it.

He spent the rest of the ride in silence, staring out the window. Grant, thankfully, let him be.


	13. Chapter 13

Jason’s group of friends didn’t always agree, but they could all agree on one thing: Ollie was one lazy bastard. He could spend whole weeks cooped up in his mansion just sleeping and eating and doing whatever new drug he’d discovered over the weekend. Sure, he’d done that kind of thing a lot less since getting together with Riley, but he still took more than his fair share of lazy days.

Yet when it came to parties, nothing was ever too much.

Jason was reminded of this when Grant pulled up in front of Ollie’s less-than-humble abode. He had to shield his eyes from the elaborate light-show that had been set up on the second story veranda overlooking the driveway.

They exited the car, and behind him Grant gave a whistle.

“Almost forgot about the Carswell fortune,” he said slowly, and grinned when Jason shot him a raised eyebrow. “Almost.”

“At least one of us will marry into wealth,” Jason replied dryly.

“Jason!” Grant chided softly, and Jason shrugged.

“It’s not a lie.”

“I like to think mom raised us better,” Grant said calmly.

That was the maddening thing about Grant. He was always such a fuckin’ diplomat, even when Jason was just joking. Even after wallowing in the mud in the army he was still better than the rest of them. Probably why Jason loved him so much.

They headed for the door, past a good group of people hanging out on the lawn. Red single cups already littered the ground, just like the last time Ollie had hosted a party. Jason had to wonder how he managed to get them all cleaned up by the next day. God only knew what the inside would look like at the end of night. Nonetheless, Jason followed Grant inside, where a bassy, oppressive track pounded around the throng of people inside. Jason found himself wishing he was listening to Vaas’ music just then, weird as it might have been.

“Ollie!” Grant called in front of him. “Hey, over here!”

Jason hadn’t even seen Ollie, but he was suddenly bounding through the crowd towards them. He came right up and hugged Grant around the chest, and Grant returned the favor.

“How you been, man?” Ollie asked. “Damn, has it been five months already?”

“Hey, I’ve been gone a helluva lot longer,” Grant said, patting him on the back.

“Aw, yeah, there was that one year, right?”

Grant rolled his eyes with a snort of laughter.

“Yup. That one year,” he echoed.

“Jason!” Ollie cried out of nowhere before coming over to hug him as well.

“Hey, Ollie,” Jason said, allowing the embrace. Ollie must have dropped something a while back if his attention span was any indication.

“Oh, man, feels like forever since I last saw you,” Ollie slurred, giggling a bit on the last word.

Before Jason could reply, Grant broke in.

“Hey, where’s Riley?” he asked. “He was supposed to get here before us.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ollie said, peeling himself off of Jason. “He’s- he’s- I think he went upstairs. Couldn’t hold his booze or something.”

“Ah, jeez, that’s just great.”

Grant shook his head and glanced around for a path through the crowd.

“I’ll go find him,” he declared before pushing his way towards the stairway up.

Both Jason and Ollie followed Grant with their eyes for a moment. Even with the dense mass of people, everyone seemed to part for Grant’s huge form. It seemed almost mystical, but no, it was just Grant. Jason was very tempted to follow in his wake when Ollie clapped him on the shoulder with a distant smile.

“Have a drink, Jase, live it up,” he said. “Gotta go find Riles, be back soon.”

Jason shook his head. If Ollie was right about one thing, Jason definitely needed a drink.

*****

Jason swayed and stumbled as he tried to make way through the pulsing wall of people dancing. There were too many people here, too many unfamiliar faces, and Jason felt a sudden need to just escape somewhere. He was looking for Liza, had been for a while now, but it was damn near impossible since his vision kept getting more and more fuzzy. He swore under his breath and took another swig of his Coke and rum. It was foul, and probably had been from the start, but Jason didn’t care. He just needed to find Liza. He was pretty sure the alcohol was supposed to make him feel better, but with the headache and growing sense of melancholy, he was pretty sure that that had failed miserably. He hoped he wouldn’t end up crying on the front lawn. Again.

The music kept on pounding mercilessly through his skull, and he swore he could feel it in his teeth and in his eyeballs. He hiccupped and scowled when some chick sent him a dirty look.

“Liza?” He finally just gave up and started shouting her name, trying so, so hard to drown out that god-awful music Ollie liked for some reason. “Wher’ar’u?”

More than just the one started sending him looks, and some even pushed him in a less-than-subtle way when he tried to make his way past them. Fuck, he really was gonna start crying soon. The thought had him chuckle, and he got another swig of alcohol to drain the feeling away.

It had been four months since they broke up, yet he felt as dependent on her as he ever had, just not in the same way. He didn’t blame her for ending things with him, he had been too distant and too cold to her to ever be boyfriend-material, but he’d still felt empty without her. At least, he had until he met- He hiccupped again, and finally just let the empty glass dangling between his fingers fall to the floor.

“Liza?!”

“Jeez, Jason, what?”

Liza was suddenly standing right in front of him, the only proof that she had been drinking was a slight smudge of mascara under her left eye. Jason licked his finger and pressed it, a bit too hard, admittedly, against the smear.

“Ew, Jason, what the hell?!”

“Just tryin’ to get the outside lookin’ as good as the inside,” Jason slurred, and Liza stared at him, less impressed than he’d like, before she started giggling.

“Jesus, you’re hammered,” she finally spluttered between fits of laughter.

“We need to talk.”

She sobered up a bit at those words, even if Jason didn’t, and she nodded and followed him as he made his way towards one of the Carswell family libraries or whatever rich people put in their mansions. Jason giggled at the thought. Maybe they stocked the place with fake, cardboard books. Jason sure as shit hadn’t ever seen Ollie reading.

“So what’s up?” she asked once the door was closed behind them. She folded her arms across her chest, like she always did when she was nervous. Jason had to smile at the familiar gesture.

“Put your arms down, babe, no need to worry.”

One corner of her lips tilted up slightly before she rolled her eyes and lowered her arms. “You know me too well,” she mumbled, but her tone was warmer than before.

“Not a big surprise. I mean, I wanted to marry you from the moment I saw you.” Jason scratched his head. It was far too easy to be honest when he was drunk, but still he kept on talking. “When was that? Kindergarten?”

“Yeah…” She let her voice trail off, eyes firmly focused on Jason’s face. “What happened, really?”

Jason pinched his eyes shut and rubbed his temple. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to break the news that he had found himself physically attracted to another guy, was there? Truth be told, he wasn’t sure why he’d wanted to speak to her at all. Except maybe as that comforting presence she’d been since they were kids.

“Thing is-” he started, and for once his voice sounded completely steady. “-I met someone.”

“Yeah, I know,” Liza rolled her eyes again, but for some reason it didn’t seem unfriendly. “You told me about that goddess Citra more than once, remember?” Her voice turned slightly sour at the mention of Citra’s name, and Jason realized he kinda flinched at the mention of it as well.

“Well, uh, no.” Jason started scratching the back of his head again, furiously this time. “Her brother, actually.”

For a moment he worried that Liza’s eyes might actually pop out of her head.

“Her what?” Liza’s voice had gotten a shrill quality to it, the kind where he wasn’t sure if she was livid or excited.

“His name is Vaas,” Jason explained, ignoring the heat spreading through his chest at the mere mention of the name.

“And what, you love him?”

“What?” It was Jason’s turn to splutter. “No! I mean, it’s just a physical thing, I guess, I-”

“Mmm-hmm,” Liza hummed, and this time she really did smile. “Sorry, but that’s the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard.”

“What? I tell you I met someone and all you do is-”

“‘Just physical’?” Liza interrupted with a laugh. “How often have you had a “just physical” relationship with anyone, let alone another guy?”

“Well, you and I kinda-”

“Nuh-uh, Jason, that doesn’t count. That was after months of pining and you told me you loved me right after.”

“Well, I did,” Jason sniffed, and Liza started laughing again.

“That’s my point, you dork.”

“He’s an angry patient with a mohawk, Liza, I can’t b-”

“Just physical, hm? Is it the mohawk?”

She was probably still annoyed with him, but she seemed more relaxed than she had been for ages. Maybe the idea that he had fallen for a guy was somehow easier for her to deal with than another woman. Chicks could be weird like that.

“I dunno,” Jason shrugged with an expression he hoped was casual as could be. “He has a certain- something.”

“Vaas, huh?” She studied Jason’s face intently when she said his name, and then called out in triumph. “Your face! You just went beet red! Just physical, my-”

“Fine!” Jason laughed and waved his hands. “Fine, maybe it’s something else, but it’s not love, jeez.”

“Does this mean you’ll start going shopping with me?”

Jason laughed. “Fuck’s sake, Liza, I like the guy, it doesn’t make me a chick.”

They both started laughing at that, and it was cathartic. It really was. Liza must have felt it too, because she suddenly went serious.

“Jason, really, it’s okay. You know it is, right?” She put her arm around Jason’s shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze. “We’re okay.”

It was like he was seeing her for the first time since before they’d been together. It was nice.

“Thanks, Liza,” he said, even as his head went light. “But, y’know, I think I’m just gonna lie down for a while.”

“Sure, Jason, whatever you need,” Liza gave his arm another squeeze before making her way back to the party. “And let me meet this Vaas guy, okay?” she said over her shoulder with a grin. “He sounds like a riot.” 

“Yeah, no kidding there.”

Jason waved her off before waddling over to the nearest couch. He felt like a walrus, flopping down on it, but it didn’t matter. What did matter was the sudden lightness of his limbs, and the carefree smile on his lips. It had felt right talking to Liza, the conversation had been good. It made him feel like maybe he hadn’t lost her at all.

Jason closed his eyes, still smiling.

*****

He woke up the next morning in his own bed with a splitting headache and no recollection of how he got there. He already knew why he had a headache, and he had a feeling Grant and his newly acquired army-muscles had something to do with the latter. It didn’t make it any less mortifying.

Jason groaned and rolled out of bed. At least he had a late shift, with plenty of time to shower and nurse his hangover. In a brief moment, he thought about breakfast, but the grumble his stomach gave at the thought of that made him reconsider.

Maybe a shower and a cold glass of orange juice. His stomach gave another lurch and Jason shook his head. Just the shower, then. No breakfast and a hangover; that was just great. He had a bad feeling about the rest of the day.

*****

The mental institution seemed somehow entirely made out of windows in the evening sun, each reflective surface breaking through his sunglasses with a steady aim for his brain. Jason groaned and clutched his head. He should have known better than to drink anything that had been anywhere near Ollie’s grubby hands.

With another self-pitying groan he made his way for the main doors, only to see something that made him perk up considerably.

Vaas had managed to avoid solitary for at least a month now, a feat all on its own, and he was casually waiting for Jason by the doors. Well, he probably wanted it to look casual, but Jason knew better. Jason pretended not to see him, and greeted the secretary on duty instead. Once she opened the doors for him, Jason looked up to find Vaas waiting for him with an impatient frown.

“Hey!” Jason greeted and locked the doors behind him.

“Hey, hermano,” Vaas said, his tone cold and a scowl on his face. He followed Jason as he made his way down the hallway. “Fun party?”

“Eh, kinda.” Jason shrugged. “Glad I caught you. I was talking to Liza yesterday and-”

“Liza?” Vaas interrupted and scrunched his face up in distaste. “Who the fuck is Liza?”

“My ex-girlfriend.”

“ _Girl_ friend?” Vaas furrowed his brow for a moment before shrugging. “And here I am thinking you're picky.”

“Hey, piss off, Liza is great.” Jason murmured, and pretended not to see the change on Vaas’ face.

“So you loved her?”

“I, uh,” Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Thought I did. Now I think I was just in love with the idea of us. She’ll always be important to me, but I didn’t love her. Not like I-” 

Jason snapped his mouth shut when he realized what he’d just said.

Apparently Vaas had as well, because his eyes widened as he tilted his head.

“Not like you what?” he asked in a breath. “Like fucking what?”

“I just, uh…”

Jason tried to walk away, but Vaas grabbed onto his wrist and yanked him back.

“Not like you-” he repeated, stare boring into Jason. “-what?”

“Not like I…” Jason desperately tried to think of something that might fit, something that wouldn’t sound too weird, shaking his head when he realized he couldn’t. “Fuck, you’re impossible.”

Jason already knew Vaas was strong, but he’d never hated that fact until now, since there was no way Vaas would let him leave without being told what he wanted to hear. Or maybe even the truth. How could Jason not tell the truth with Vaas looking at him with so much trust? He’d seen so many expressions on Vaas’ face; anger, arousal, sadness, smug satisfaction. But this- this uninhibited faith was the first to completely knock the air out of Jason’s lungs.

“Not like I- uh…” Jason blinked a few times, and realized he couldn’t look away from Vaas’ intense gaze.

“Are you trying to say-” Vaas started, and his voice desperately tried to hide what his eyes couldn’t. “-that white boy liked being in that closet?”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Jason laughed, before he went serious. “You know I did,” he finally mumbled, because it was far easier for him to admit to anything that sounded even remotely physical.

Vaas smiled then, and not one of his half-amused or disinterested smiles, but one that made his eyes crinkle in the corners and his face change completely.

Jason glanced over Vaas’ shoulder to see if anyone was coming, before he dared to carefully intertwine their fingers.

“We’ll talk about this later, Vaas, but not here.”

The words made Vaas face fall a little, and he took a step back.

“Not here?” he asked, and this time his tone matched his expression. “But I’m always _here_ , did you forget?”

Jason winced at his words. It was like bargaining with a cornered animal. There was no easy way out, not with Vaas’ hackles up.

“You know I didn’t,” he said carefully. “It’d be hard to, what with- everything.” He gestured to the plaques on the walls and the cold sterility of the hallway.  
Even so, Vaas’ frown stayed firmly in place. He was barely looking at Jason anymore and his shoulders sagged.

“Other than the fact that it’s a felony, it doesn’t change all that much,” Jason tried, which earned him a quiet huff of either amusement or annoyance. “Sure makes oral sex more interesting, though.”

The next huff was definitely a concealed chuckle, and Vaas allowed Jason to pull him closer again.

“Would you take me out for lunches and shit if I was out there?” Vaas asked with that strange new vulnerability again, and Jason squeezed Vaas’ fingers.

“‘Course,” Jason said, letting his own guard down to match Vaas. “Hell, I’d take you to meet my mom.”

“I’m good with moms,” Vaas said, leaning against him with a grin.

It was strange, both of them trying so hard to be casual, while the weight of the real meaning of the words hung heavy in the air. Perhaps it was just easier like this, considering the circumstances.  
“I gotta meet up with Sam, but I’ll catch you later?”

And just like that, the spell was broken, and Vaas’ face smoothed back over into the indifferent mask Jason was used to seeing.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, but his tone was soft. “I’ll be around.”

“You’re right.” Jason leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Vaas’ lips. “I will make sure of it.”

Then, before Vaas had the chance to say anything, Jason started walking towards the nurses station, lulling over the words in his head. In all his years on this planet, he didn’t think he’d ever said anything as cutesy as that. Jesus, maybe Liza was right and he really was turning into a girl.

Despite that, and despite the lingering headache, he walked away feeling better than he had in a long time. Hell, maybe even better than he ever had. Things felt like they were slowly falling into place, even if some of the pieces were slightly more ragged than he would have liked.

With a grin, he decided not to tell Vaas about that comparison.


End file.
